The Secret Past of Sherlock Holmes
by writingartist94
Summary: Sherlock Holmes is on a case, and he gets two more add ons. He's different. Everyone's noticed. Molly is his only confident. What happens? Sorry, my summary isn't the best. but let's hope the title is catchy enough. Rated T for language, and suggestive themes later
1. The Case

Sherlock walked into the mortuary bright and early on Monday morning. His coat drifted behind him, and his scarf was bundled around his neck against the brisk January chill. Snow had covered the streets the night before. Sherlock liked snow. Although the traffic jams it caused were dreadfully annoying, not to mention dull, it gave the city a fresh, clean look. It was still lightly falling, and was currently melting into John and Sherlock's hair.

"Morning Sherlock." Molly said, looking surprised. "Wasn't expecting you so early. I had coffee sent up for later."

"Ah, thank you Molly." John gave a huge yawn, and smiled warmly at Molly. "Fix your lab coat, it's falling off your shoulder."

"Oh, sorry." She pulled it on. Mike Stamford came in.

"Ah, Sherlock. Greg Lestrade told me you'd be in." Greg lived in the same flat building as Mike. "He said the samples will be in soon. Anderson's coming by." Sherlock groaned.

"Fantastic, that's exactly what I need. An incompetent from Scotland Yard." Sherlock perched at his usual microscope. "Molly, did those test results come in from yesterdays tests?"

"Right here. Actually, it was interesting. John suggested a poison. But there are actually five." Sherlock looked at the tests.

"Basic, and more than enough to kill you. But why?" Sherlock sat, his fingers steepled together.

"Maybe he was testing a cocktail poison." John suggested.

"No, that doesn't make any sense."

"What if he wasn't sure, so he added them all together?" Molly suggested.

"Far from it, Molly. He knew how much, so why add them together? No, this is about something different. Did the blood sample get a match?"

"No, the poison overrode it." Sherlock and Molly stared at one another.

"Are you sure?"

"Positive, look." Molly looked it up.

"You didn't do something stupid, and hand it over to a moron, did you?"

"I swear, Sherlock, I did it." She said. "I had finished my paperwork, so I did it myself while I had the time." Sherlock looked over the results.

"No DNA found." Sherlock's mind was reeling. "This is fantastic." John was looking at him in confusion. "We can't find any ID, nor is there DNA in the blood. The poisons, they must strip away all the DNA left in the bloodstream." Sherlock sat back on his stool. Anderson came in.

"Here's the blood sample's Lestrade sent, Molly."

"Thanks, Jimmy." She said. Sherlock was thinking. John's only thought was _Anderson's first name is James?_

"What DNA samples are there, Anderson?"

"Blood, mouth swab, hair." Sherlock pulled on some gloves, grabbed the samples, and went to work.

"Molly, run the blood again, as a double check. We may have either come across our red herring, or I'm right."

"We've got more than one, should I test them all?"

"No, save one. I want to take a look at the blood under the microscope." Sherlock handed Anderson the hair. "Here, run the tests. I'll take a blood sample, Molly." Sherlock's iPhone rang. "John, answer that, please." John pulled it from Sherlock's coat off the hook. "It's Mrs. Hudson." He answered it. "Hello? No, we're just at St. Barts. Yeah, so far. Sure. Sherlock." He held his hand out for the phone, peering into his microscope.

"Sherlock, why is there a human leg in your bathtub?" Sherlock smirked.

"Experiment, Mrs. Hudson. Do leave it alone, please."

"All right. What experiment."

"I'm testing the congealment of blood after death in room temperature. Man's alibi depends on it." It wasn't really a case, but she'd never let him do the experiment otherwise. And he never knew when he'd need the information again.

"...That's really disturbing, Sherlock. What kind of case is this?"

"A longer one than expected, Mrs. Hudson." Sherlock said. "IS that why you called?"

"No, Mrs. Turner and her married ones are coming over for cards later." Sherlock looked at John and rolled his eyes. He looked confused. "I wanted to see when you'd be home tonight."

"I'm not sure, we might need some food."

"I'll have leftovers from our cards."

"All right. What is that noise in the background?" There was a clanking of pots, and a lot of other noise.

"I'm having one of my herbal soothers for my hip."

"Is it that time all ready?" Sherlock asked.

"No, but it's extra bad today."

"Well, take it easy, Mrs. Hudson. Did you call the plumber? John was being annoying about it."

"I'll do that once they open, all right dear?"

"Thank you."

"All right." Sherlock hung up, and continued with his work.

"What's she up too?" John asked.

"Mrs. Turner and her...married ones, are coming over." They smirked.

"What?" Anderson asked.

"The gay couple that lives next door." Molly said. "I met them last Christmas."

"Molly, don't fraternize with the neighbors, they aren't exactly good for your sanity." Sherlock said. John smirked; He knew that all too well.

"Learned that last Christmas, Sherlock." Molly said, giggling.

"Don't make jokes, Molly." Sherlock retorted.

"Sorry, Sherlock."

"No, Molly." John said. "No, say whatever you want." Sherlock looked at John. Molly looked at John. Anderson looked at them in shock.

"John, it's okay-"

"No Molly. It's not. Sherlock makes your life hell from the moment he walks into this morgue. It's your lab, Molly, now tell _him_ what to do."

"John, I like ordering coffee for you guys."

"And he doesn't act like he cares, Molly." John said. Anderson looked confused.

"I really shouldn't be here." Anderson said.

"No, Jimmy, your fine. Look, John." Molly said. "Sherlock does this better than me, I honestly _don't care_." Molly looked at a very surprised Sherlock. "I mean, a thank you would be nice, but a happy Sherlock at the end of a good case is just as good. John, I _like_ helping you."

"Why?" Anderson asked. "He's-"

"Oh, shut up, Anderson!" John shouted. Sherlock sat uneasily at the table, peering into the microscope. Anderson looked equally uncomfortable.

"Does he always do that?" He asked Sherlock.

"He has the tendency." Sherlock muttered. "It's annoying."

"Having a conscience is annoying?" John asked.

"John, do shut up, these tests are vital to the end of a case." Molly was looking at her computer.

"Sherlock, are you running tests on your blood sample?"

"I wasn't planning on it, why?"

"Um, because I have four separate people off these samples." Sherlock looked at her, and jumped up, going to her computer and staring in shock.

"Are you serious?"

"Anderson, what about the hair sample?"

"Right here." He said, pulling it up, and showing us. "This was found on the knife in the woman."

"What was the colour?"

"Black."

"And her hair is black."

"If this isn't the body, we may have our killer." Sherlock said, pulling out his phone. "Lestrade, it's me. We may have a situation."

"What?"

"Five different people."

"Are you serious? On the Johnson case?"

"Yes."

"Let me have the names."

"Lucille White, Mara Evans, Lisa Jones, and Jonah Smith."

"All right. We'll look them up and see if we can get a hold of them. Send over John and Anderson."

"Why?"

"I know that you kept Anderson, maybe to annoy him or do your work, but either way I need my Forensics pathologist. John, because he's a crack shot."

"All right." He hung up. "John, Lestrade needs you in case they need an extra gun. Anderson, he want's you, but I don't know why." Sherlock said.

"Because it's my job."

"It's mine too, but at least I'm competent at my job." Sherlock said. "Molly, did the body from the Johnson case come in yet?"

"Yes, and I did the autopsy last night."

"I want to see it. Lestrade will want results on the body. You haven't tested anything but the blood yet?"

"No, I wasn't sure what we'd try. That and we had four body's at once going." Sherlock sighed.

"You're clearly the best one at your job, you should have told them that these tests depend on peoples lives."

"Well, I can't push Mike Stamford around."

"Why not?"

"He's my _boss_ Sherlock." She said as she tossed Sherlock a pair of gloves, entering the lab. He pulled them on. "I can't exactly tell him what to do."

"So, be persuasive."

"The only persuasion types I've got to model after are your techniques." Molly said. "And you like to flirt with me..." She looked at his smug smirk. "Oh, no. Sherlock, no _way_."

"Why not? It works on you."

"Yes, but I'm different. It works on me, but Mike is married, and very loyal to his wife."

"Oh, come on, a compliment isn't flirting."

"So, wait, you admit to flirting with me?" Molly asked.

"No, I tell you the truth, and it happens to work to my advantage." Molly smiled.

"You honestly believe some of the stuff you say?"

"No, I believe it all." Sherlock said, looking puzzled. "Molly do I lie about people being able to do their jobs?" Molly laughed. She knew the idea was completely ludicrous. Sherlock Holmes lying to spare someone's feelings was a ridiculous thing. It was not the Sherlock Holmes way.

"All right then. Here, you want the report?" Sherlock took the report and started to look over the paper.

"Why did you side with me on John's argument?" Sherlock looked at Molly.

"Because, I'm serious, I do like doing things for you. I like seeing you smile, and I like working with you. It's a whole lot more exciting with you around then without." Molly looked at him. "Besides, seeing you work is...never mind." Molly blushed.

"Seeing me work is what, Molly?" Sherlock asked, the report forgotten in his hands.

"Er...well...it's sexy." Sherlock looked at her in surprise.

"Oh." He said simply. He placed the report on her desk, and slowly approached her. "You find me working...sexy?" He was slowly approaching, and she stopped.

"Yes." She sounded scared of his intentions. "Uh, Sher-" The rest of the word was cut off by his lips on hers. They slowly kissed, right there, no audience but a dead body. Sherlock's fingers ran through her hair, her hands on the back of his neck. Sherlock finally broke apart.

"That was rather impressive." Sherlock said. "Although, I do admit, I've only got Mrs. Hudson and my mother to judge off of that." Molly looked at him.

"Well, I've got a lot to teach you." They smiled. Sherlock's mobile rang.

"Sherlock, we've got another body. John's at another location, is anyone available at Barts?"

"Sure, I'll bring Molly." Molly looked surprised. Sherlock hung up, and went in to grab his coat.

"How are you going to work this out?" Molly asked, grabbing her coat and phone, pulling off her lab coat.

"Easy." Sherlock lead her into the hallway, and caught Stamford. "Ah, Mike."

"Yes, you all right?"

"Yes, I need to borrow your pathologist."

"Why?"

"Because my doctor is unavailable, and Molly would like the on-sight experience."

"Oh. Well, sure. If you both can do the body later." Sherlock grinned.

"Thank you Mike. Coming, Molly?" They went out the door, and to the address that Lestrade texted him. They arrived quickly at the scene, where caution tape covered the entire place. Anderson and Sally stood there, waiting.

"Molly?" Anderson asked. "How did he force you out here?"

"He didn't." Molly said.

"Lestrade asked me to bring her out. Where's Lestrade?"

"Inside, looking at the body." He went inside. Molly went after him, looking curious. She was handed a body suit and gloves. Lestrade already had one on.

"Molly, good to see you again." Lestrade said. "Suzie said she'd seen you around." Suzie was Lestrade's teenaged daughter.

"Yeah, she was with a boy." Lestrade looked furious.

"What?"

"She's been seeing someone for a while Lestrade. Don't worry, class valedictorian, class president, going off to law school at Cambridge in two weeks." Sherlock rattled off.

"Isn't that where you went?"

"No, Oksford." Sherlock said. Molly looked at him.

"Really?"

"Does that surprise you?"

"No, of course not, it's just...me too." Molly smiled. "I had a full ride scholarship." They went into the living room where a body was laying across the ground. Sherlock looked at it.

_Faded wedding band tan line: Divorced for a year._

_Blonde hair, but not natural_

_Make-up smudges, covering..._Sherlock used his gloved hand to wipe a litte of it away. _A bruise? No...many bruises. She was being abused. She is underweight, and she seems unhealthy._

_Shoes...no shoes. Oh, over there, across the room. New, but several older pairs as well. Dirt caked into the Wellington boots, woman's boots. These Converse are scuffed, but well taken care of. Favourite pair of shoes then. _

_Her clothes are tattered though, and Converse can get expensive. They're a gift then. She's poor, but...then..._

"This isn't her home." Sherlock said.

"No, she lives with her mother." Lestrade said.

"Which body is this one?"

"Lucille White." Lestrade said, handing him the picture. "What have you got on her?"

"Her clothes, she's poor. So, this isn't her house, because this is a wealthy neighborhood. She's moving back in. She's a teenager, judging by her facial features and body size. So, these Converse over hear are hers."

"You know difference types of shoes, but not the Prime Minister?" Sherlock ignored Lestrade. Molly watched him, curious.

"What about the Converse, Sherlock?"

"They're scuffed up but well taken care of. She can't afford them herself, so, they're a gift. Her wedding ring finger has an old ring on it. She's divorced. Or a broken promise ring."

"What about class ring?" Molly asked.

"What?" Sherlock looked at her. Molly was looking at a ring on the floor. Sherlock picked it up, and noticed that the ring fit the finger.

"She must have lost it, or..." Lestrade began.

"Disguise." Molly sad. "The picture she had brown hair, but here she's blonde. Her roots are showing, so she's a died blonde."

"Very good Molly." Sherlock said. His body was responding weirdly to that, adrenaline pumping, heart pounding. Sherlock recognized the signals as sexual arousal, but that's ridiculous. Sherlock Holmes doesn't get turned on. "Look, the make up."

"Oh, my..." Molly wiped some of the make up, and looked at Sherlock. She said, "She's being abused."

"Anything else?"

"Yeah. Here, get a sample of the make up." Lestrade said. Sherlock pulled out a petri dish, and got several make up samples.

"She died of knife wounds. The blood is everywhere." Molly handed him four blood samples to take to the lab. "And this abuse. We'll have a better look in the mortuary." Sherlock said. Lestrade's phone rang.

"Lestrade. Oh, hi John." Lestrade put his mobile on speaker. "What is it?"

"We found all the bodies. They're all dead. Accept Jonah. He's alive, but barely."

"Can you bring him in?"

"We need a woman, he won't come near us."

"What, what are you talking about?"

"He's a child." Lestrade cussed.

"Sherlock, send in pictures, see if the bodies all look the same." Sherlock sent John several pictures.

"Hold on...yeah, exactly."

"Get blood samples, and check for physical abuse. Now, we'll send Sherlock and Molly over to get the kid."

"Molly? What is she doing there? Sherlock, if you did anything-"

"Shut up, John. She wanted to." Molly smiled, and took the samples, put them in an evidence bag, and gave them back. "Text the address, we'll be there."

"All right." The line went dead.

"The mother will be home soon, go ahead and leave. We'll take care of the mother." Sherlock and Molly left, Sherlock putting the lab samples in his pocket for later. Sherlock and Molly left. They went towards the caution tape, a car approaching at the same time. Sherlock turned to Sally.

"Tell Lestrade the mother's here." Sherlock's mobile went off. He checked for the address. "come on, Molly, John sent the address." They left then, the mother looking terrified. Sherlock ran to the curb.

"Taxi!" He called. Molly was at his elbow. They scrambled in, and Sherlock rattled off the address. The cab ride was silent. Sherlock looked out the window, thinking. Molly leaned her head against the seat. They sat there in their silence.

Once they got to their location, Sherlock threw the cabbie a few notes, and they left the cab. They ran to John at the front.

"Where is he?"

"Come on." They went into the house. It was revolting.

The floors were dirty, and covered in takeaway containers and pizza boxes. Sherlock found stacks and stacks of dirty dishes in the sink that were rotting. Molly and Sherlock were lead into a small bedroom, where a policeman stood.

"Good, you two are here. Maybe one of you can do something." Molly went into the room. Sherlock followed her.

"Hey." Molly said. The boy looked terrified. "Hi, sweetheart, how are you?" He was shaking. "Come on. We're going to get you out of here, ask you a few questions, and get you a safe, clean place to live. Okay?" The boy looked at Sherlock, terrified.

"Come on, son." Sherlock said, kneeling down next to Molly. John watched in amazement, as Sherlock reached out for his hand. "Come here, Jonah. It's okay. I promise, you aren't in trouble." The boy crawled from his bed, and into Sherlock's arms. He held the boy close, and carried him out of the house. Lestrade pulled in.

"Come on, get in. We'll take him down to the station."

"Molly and I have samples to take to Barts, we'll take care of him there." Sherlock said.

"Want a ride?"

"Please." Sherlock got in, the boy clinging on to him. John and Molly climbed in, Molly in the back, John up front.

"Who knew you were good with kids." Molly said. Sherlock ignored her. "It's sweet." She said, squeezing his arm. Sherlock continued to ignore her. John looked at him, concerned, but he said nothing. They made it to Barts in record time, and went off to the lab.

"Son, listen to me. We need to take a blood sample, all right?" The boy nodded. "Now, it's going to hurt a little bit, but after that it'll be okay." Sherlock got the sample cleanly and quickly. The boy didn't cry, but he looked upset.

"Am I going to be safe here?"

"Yes." Sherlock said, pressing his lips to Jonah's forehead. "You'll be all right. We'' have a doctor look you over and we'll find you someplace to stay." Molly, Lestrade, and John were amazed.

Come on. Let's get you taken care of." Sherlock said, scooping Jonah up and carrying him away.


	2. The Surprise

Sherlock sat in his chair, thinking. John was checking his emails. Sherlock looked up when the door opened.

"Mycroft." He said simply. "On a case, go away." He went back to his thinking position.

"You are coming Friday?"

"Of course. When have I ever missed it?"

"Twice."

"Not my fault. You forced me into rehab, and they wouldn't let me out, then I was in the hospital because of a case gone wrong."

"Is that why you have a scar on the back of your neck?"

"Yes. Well, that's one of them." Sherlock said. His mobile went off. He picked it up, and answered with, "Sherlock."

"Sherlock it's me. It's about Jonah."

"Oh?" Sherlock stood, and went towards his bedroom.

"We have nobody for the kid. His father isn't on the certificate, and the mother is dead. She was killed four months ago." Sherlock closed his bedroom door. "We need someone to take him, or he'll be put in foster care." Sherlock sighed.

"Let me see if I can't do anything." He hung up, and went to the living room.

"Sherlock, Mummy said you could bring guests. Will you?"

"Two. Unless John is separately invited, then four, because John's seeing someone."

"Mary hasn't even met you!"

"Oh, so that's her name!" Sherlock said. "Thank you, John." Sherlock smiled smugly. "Mummy doesn't care, I can assure you John."

"Mummy...what are you going on about?"

"Mummy's birthday party this week. I should have our case wrapped up by then."

"So then who are you bringing?"

"Well, it usually involves dancing, and if I don't bring a date, then I'll be forced to dance with you. Or an insufferable cousin."

"So...who?"

"Molly of course. Unless you want me to bring Lestrade, then Molly is the only choice."

"You don't know any other women?"

"Of course not. Unless you count Sally Donovan, and I'd rather sing Christmas tunes in my pants." Sherlock left. Mycroft and John looked confused.

Sherlock went into the morgue, and grabbed Molly, who was talking to another doctor. She looked surprised.

"Sherlock, what's wrong?"

"Jonah. He's got no family." Sherlock said. "Lestrade wants to know what we want to do with him. And, I want to take him in."

"Are you serious?" Molly asked. Sherlock nodded. "Why? I didn't think you liked kids." Sherlock stiffened.

"I don't have any problems with kids, but it's safe at Baker Street." She rubbed his arm.

"I didn't mean it like that, Sherlock. I thought they were annoying for your cases."

"They can be, but I want to do this." She had never seen Sherlock so distraught over a child before. He seemed upset by the fact that the child was virtually homeless.

"I think it's good." She said. "John seems to think you have no heart. I think this proves him very wrong." Molly said. She was worried about him.

"I would also like to invite you to my mother's birthday gathering." Sherlock said. "That is, unless you don't dance."

"Sherlock, you deduced it yourself when you had moved in with me, that I did ballet my whole childhood, and teen years."

Now, I know they seem out of character. But let me explain something to you.

Sherlock had moved into Molly's flat when he was taking down Moriarty's network. They had become close, really close, and their entire relationship had changed. Sherlock pretended to "insult" to her. She laughed about John's reaction. They had become almost best friends. Very dysfunctional friends, but nevertheless, they were friends. She had seen all sides of Sherlock, but she also knew that he had a crazy past that was a huge secret, one she'd never really know.

"I'd love to go, Sherlock. I want to meet your mother." He smiled at her, his heart pounding.

"May I experiment with something?" Sherlock asked. She nodded. Sherlock leaned in, and kissed Molly full on the mouth. They worked slowly into this kiss, and they worked into the snog.

"Molly, Lestrade asked me to drop these off..." Anderson froze. Sherlock and Molly jumped apart. Molly blushed. Sherlock pretended like nothing was wrong.

"Anderson you had something?" He asked.

"Samples." Sherlock took them silently. "What, no insult?" Sherlock sat down, and pulled out his mobile. "Is he okay?" Anderson wasn't usually concerned, but there was something seriously off.

"He's got a lot on his mind with this case." Molly said. "Look, Jimmy, just...go back to Scotland Yard, I'll figure it out from here." He left. Sherlock put his mobile to his ear.

"Lestrade, it's me. I'll take the kid."

"Are you serious?"

"Yes." Sherlock said.

"The last time you had-"

"I vividly remember what happened, Lestrade. Please." Sherlock said. The line was silent. If Sherlock hadn't been able to hear Lestrade's breathing, even he would have thought Lestrade hung up.

"All right. I've got the papers, we'll bring them down with the boy."

"Thank you, Lestrade." Sherlock hung up, and Molly went over to him to hug him. They held onto each other for a moment. Normally, Sherlock rejected hugs, but somehow he was soothed by her warm hug.

"Listen, Molly, I know I've always taken advantage of your love for me, and I know it was wrong. I can see how much you do for me. I would like to take you to dinner after this case." Molly looked shocked. "Please. You've done so much for me when I 'died'. Please, Molly. John was right, I do make you look ridiculous, and I want to change it. I want to annoy Mycroft too, which you admitted you liked to do too, so-"

"I'd love too." Molly said, smiling. "I would absolutely love to." Sherlock grinned. Lestrade came in, carrying Jonah.

"Hi, Mr. Sherlock!" He said, giggling.

"Well, aren't we looking all better." Sherlock said, grinning wider, and taking the kid. Lestrade let Jonah down, and he ran into Sherlock's arms. Sherlock scooped him up, and took the papers.

"Are you sure, Sherlock. You've got a past."

"And the nearest adoption agency owes me a favor." Sherlock said, filling out the paperwork.

"Are you going to change his name?" Molly asked. She loved watching Sherlock write, his small, neat manuscript was intereststing.

"Why? He has one already."

"No, his last name, Sherlock." Sherlock looked at Jonah.

"Jonah, would you like to keep your last name, or change it to mine."

"I don't even know my last name." They stared at him for a moment.

"Your last name is Holmes. That's my name, and it'll stay that way." Sherlock said, writing that down. He figured it was safer for Jonah to keep his last name a secret until the murderer was in prison. Molly smiled.

"Did you tell John?"

"Why, he'd think I was lying."

"...All right, fair point. But he should still know."

"Whose John?"

"John is my best friend." Sherlock said. "He lives with me because he also works with me." Sherlock looked at Lestrade. "What?" The DI was grinning smugly.

"New it. Dimmock tried to tell me differently."

"What did he tell you?"

"That you guys were..."

"No." Sherlock said. "He's seeing someone. Her name is Mary."

"Mary Morstan? Yeah, she works here at Barts." John had also worked part-time at Barts.

"Is that how they met?" Sherlock asked Molly. She shook her head.

"No, Mary and I are close friends." Well, that certainly explained things. Sherlock looked at Molly, and she smiled.

"Besides, I'm not interested in John." Molly smiled. Fortunately, Lestrade was a few feet away, behind Molly, and couldn't see her smiling.

"Yeah, but you aren't interested in anyone." Sherlock smiled faintly at Molly. Jonah giggled.

"Oh, I wouldn't say that." Molly looked confused. "Besides, you might hurt her feelings if you say that in front of her."

"What...you like someone? Sherlock, you haven't liked anyone-"

"Now, that's not true. I think Molly can attest to that." Molly blushed, but grinned.

"Yes, yes I can." They smiled at each other.

"I'm so lost." Lestrade said. "Jonah, do you know what's going on?"

"Nope." He said, shaking his head. Sherlock handed over the papers.

"Oh, Molly, I'll come get you around four, at your flat. Mummy and Father live quite far, and the party starts at eight."

"Party?" Jonah asked.

"My mother. We've got to find you some clothes. Come on, let's go." They left. Molly looked at Lestrade.

"Greg, why is he so willing to take care of Jonah. It's like he used to be a father." Lestrade fiddled with the papers, and didn't look at Molly. "You aren't telling me something, are you?"

"Look, Mols. It's not my place to tell you. He's got a horrible past." Molly figured he had a dysfunctional family too, but she didn't say that out loud. "And, in my experience, Sherlock doesn't tell anybody what happened unless he's absolutely ready. I told John I've known him for five years. That was the first time I met John, same day as you. I've known him a lot longer than that, but I've worked with him for five years."

"He's not a bad person." Molly said. Lestrade nodded.

"I agree. He just does bad things." Molly and Greg were best friends. They had known each other sense Molly was in university. She got mugged, and Lestrade, came in and helped her. They had soon realized she was a friend of his wife's.

"You think maybe I should at least try to figure out his attitude towards me."

"No, I could tell you. John could too."

"Then enlighten me, because I want to know." She said, looking at him, crossing her arms.

"Listen, Mols." Lestrade said, leaning against the counter, his own arms crossed. "Sherlock lost a lot when he 'died.' He lost me, Mrs. Hudson, his parents, John, Mycroft. He won't admit it, but he was crushed to lose so many people. They were his life. Mrs. Hudson has known him his whole life. I've known him sense he was a teenager, and I was new to Scotland Yard. John, well, you see what they did for one another. Even losing Mycroft was huge. Mycroft was devestated." Despite Sherlock's claims that Mycroft had easily figured it out, he had no idea his baby brother was still alive. Molly had seen him at the funeral, sobbing, and wouldn't talk to anyone. He was the first person Sherlock told. "He leaned on you when it got rough, when he needed someone. I know he isn't an easy person, but look at everything you gave him when we weren't able too. Sherlock may care for you. Now, I don't know if he's into someone or not, but he does love you. Like he would love John, or Mrs. Hudson." Molly wanted to correct him, but decided not to.

"I guess that makes sense." Molly said.

"Jonah gives him another person to do that too."

"That should get interesting. You going to babysit?"

"Of course, Uncle Greg is going to babysit!" Molly laughed, looking a little sad. Lestrade held his arms out, and she hugged him.

"I just worry about Sherlock sometimes."

"Don't we all, Molly. Don't we all."


	3. The Ending

"Sherlock, is that you?"

"Coming up John." Sherlock came in, carrying Jonah. "You remember Jonah."

"Yes. What's he doing at our flat."

"I adopted him."

"You what?"

"You heard me." Sherlock looked at John scathingly. "Now, Jonah needs a place to sleep, and I'm on a case, so my room works just fine."

"And what about food? Clothes? Toys?"

"Relax, we'll do that." Jonah looked a little scared, but was staring at John. Like he recongized John.

"You're the man that was with the cops." The boy said shyly. "You were nice to me."

"Yes, I was there." John crouched in front of him. "My name is John."

"You said you were a doctor."

"I am. I work at the hospital you were staying at." He said. "Well, when I'm not working with Sherlock."

"Can I call you Doctor John?" John smiled and rumpled Jonah's hair.

"You don't have too, but if it makes you more comfortable, go right ahead." Jonah smiled shyly. Sherlock smiled.

"See, John, it's not so bad. Did you talk to Mary?" Sherlock had already figured out the answer, but he wanted John to admit it out loud. How did he figure it out? Oh, the fact that the living room was clean, the kitchen reeked of cleaning products, and that John looked tense.

"Yes. She's coming for dinner. Sherlock, please be on your best behavior?"

"I've got a case, I'll be fine. You'll keep an eye on Jonah if I have to leave, right?"

"Of course. Oh, and Lestrade called. Said he wanted to talk to you about the case, so he's staying for dinner too." Jonah looked at the wall, the looked surprised.

"Mr. Sherlock."

"Yes, Jonah?" He looked that the pictures the boy stared at.

"That looks just like my Mummy. But that would be crazy, because Mummy died before Christmas." Jonah looked curious, confused, and innocent. His face was covered in bruises, and he was underweight. Sherlock was allowed to have him, under the agreement that he was to feed him properly, and take good care of Jonah. Sherlock agreed, with several questions about healthy ways to get his weight up to a good size. Sherlock had a plan in his head.

"Do you have a picture of your Mum?" John asked. Jonah reached into his pants pocket, and pulled out an old, grimy photograph of a woman. She matched Mara. From the brown hair, and tanned face, to the skinny body, and the long legs.

"Sherlock." John and Sherlock looked at each other.

"Jonah, what was your Mum's name?"

"Mara Evans." Jonah said. Sherlock whipped his head around to look at John. They looekd at each other in shock.

"Sherlock? What's wrong?" The tiny voice began to sound smaller, scared, and full of tears. Sherlock turned around, and scooped up the boy.

"I think somebody lied to you, but I don't know how. Yet." Sherlock held the boy close. His clothes were dirty, and smelled. The boy had been clean. Sherlock needed to get the boy some clothes. "Listen. Did you have a different last name than your mother?" Jonah nodded.

"But I wasn't allowed to use my name, so I didn't learn it, because Mummy said Daddy was a bad man, and he would hurt me." Sherlock nodded. Someone came up the steps two at a time. Lestrade.

"Sherlock, good." He looked at the three of them, Sherlock cradling Jonah on the couch, who looked scared (that would take some getting used to, Sherlock with a child) and John's face absolutely white.

"Sherlock?"

"Mr. Cop? What happened to my Mummy?" The boy looked up at Lestrade, tears in his eyes. Sherlock silently handed the picture to Lestrade.

"But that's Mara Evans."

"I know." Sherlock said. He put the kid on the couch. "Excuse me." He went to his room, and sat on the bed, thinking.

After about three minutes, Sherlock heard a small fist knock quietly on the door, before the door began to open.

"Sherlock?" He asked. "Are you okay?" He closed the door, and stood by the bed. Sherlock lifted the boy in the air, and onto his lap. "Will you tell me what really happened to my Mummy?"

"She didn't die when you thought she did, son." Sherlock whispered. "She died only a few days ago." Jonah's green eyes filled with curiosity. The news hadn't settled in yet.

"How come you're sad?" Sherlock closed his eyes, and took a deep, shaky breath.

"Son, if I told you I knew what that was like, would you understand?" Jonah's eyes filled with tears. "Not with my mummy...but something similar?" Jonah, tears pouring down his small face, flung himself at Sherlock, and sobbed.

It was a long time before either of them could stop crying. When they did, they still sat there, until Lestrade came in.

"Sherlock...hey, you all right?" Lestrade knew the answer, but he felt it was only polite to ask.

"Yes." Sherlock said, sounding like he had a bad head cold.

"I have a question for Jonah." Jonah, his face tear stained and pressed to Sherlock's now-soaked shirt, looked up at the DI, who sat across from them on the bed.

"Yes, Mr. Cop?" Lestrade smiled softly.

"Call me Greg."

"Okay, Mr. Greg." He chuckled, before turning serious again.

"Jonah, where did you get all of these bruises from?"

"I don't know. He was a scary looking man."

"If you saw him again, would you know that it was him?" Jonah nodded. "All right. We've got a few guys we may think it is. Would you want to come look at them? I know John wanted us to meet his new girlfriend, but I want to get this over with." Jonah nodded.

"Can I go to the bathroom first?"

"Here." Lestrade lifted Jonah, and put him on the floor. "Go ask John where it is, all right?" The boy walked off. Sherlock didn't look at Lestrade.

"I know you don't like to talk, but what's gotten into you? Are you sure you're okay?" Sherlock was quiet for a long time.

"It was just like last time, Lestrade." Sherlock whispered. "Just like last time." Lestrade nodded solemnly.

"Sherlock, I'm sorry. I know this brings back a lot of painful memories. You know, if you need any help with the boy, I'm just a phone call away."

"Don't be ridiculous, Lestrade. Mrs. Hudson's downstairs." Lestrade grinned.

"You're back." He said. "Come on, you and I can get this done, catch our guy, meet Mary, and I'll give you some of Collin's old clothes." Collin was Lestrade's son.

"That would help out a lot, Lestrade."

"Actually, I think Collin and Suzie are home. I'll call them on the way there." They got into the police car, and drove off. Sherlock had Jonah lay low in the car, while Sherlock sat in the front. As they drove, Lestrade called his kids.

"Hey, Col, it's me. Listen, son, see if your mother has any of your old clothes. I know she wanted to give them to your aunt, but we've got a kid here who could use some." He was quite for a minute. "Really? Great. You want to see if your sister will help out?" Suddenly, his knuckles turned white as he gripped the steering wheel tighter. "He is? Well, bring them all up to the station." He hung up.

"Your daughter's boyfriend is at home."

"Sherlock, don't laugh, because if you ever have a girl, you'll know what it's like to be over protective." He said. Sherlock didn't say anymore. Lestrade looked at him. "Shit, Sherlock, I'm sorry."

"It's fine." He said, a bit too quickly. They were silent for a moment.

"Mr. Greg?" Jonah asked. "Who is Collin?"

"Collin is my son." Jonah looked thoughtful.

"Am I Sherlock's son?"

"Yes." Sherlock said. "You are now." Lestrade pulled into the parking lot, and they got out. Lestrade carried Jonah, so Sherlock could have a moment to himself. Sherlock had requested that they keep the adoption hushed until the killer was caught.

"Let's hurry this up, John won't be happy if we miss meeting his new girlfriend."

"John has a girlfriend?" One of the officers said.

"Yes, Mary Morstan." Sherlock said. Anderson looked surprised.

"Really? I thought they were just friends."

"'Just friends' don't get nervous when inviting them over to meet their sociopathic flatmates and cranky detective inspectors." Sherlock replied. "Now stop being annoying."

"You brought in the boy?"

"We're trying to see who his abuser is. We might find the killer." Sherlock's mobile went off. He answered it. "Sherlock."

"It's me, Molly. Listen, I did the examinations. These bodies all have...well, they all have serious signs of sexual abuse prior to death."

"Are you certain?"

"Absolutely. I'll put these on hold for investigation for your opinion, but I'm positive." Sherlock thought for a moment.

"We may have to question the boy, find out what his abuser did to him."

"Please, Sherlock, be careful. I know emotions are something you don't do, and I get that. But he's a scared boy."

"Please Molly. I'm a high-functioning sociopath, not an idiot."

"That's where you're wrong." She said. "You don't have sociopathic tendencies. You do care." Sherlock didn't know how to respond. "I'll see you later." They hung up. Sherlock went towards Lestrade and Donovan. They looked at him.

"You take the kid, and we'll have him look at people. All right?"

"Of course." The boy was currently sitting with another cop, who was colouring with him, and acting as if it were his own son. "Who is that?"

"Andrew Jacobs. He's got kids around Jonah's age." Sherlock nodded once. "Go on and get him, we'll start leading suspects in." He turned to the secretary. "My kids are coming in, let them know where we're at when they get here."

"Sure thing, gov." They went on their way, Lestrade taking Jonah, and heading towards the two way mirror. Sherlock suddenly was holding Jonah, and Lestrade was bringing in the suspected people. So far, most of these people looked scary to only Jonah. But he didn't recognize any of them. In fact, the next three groups of people coming in he didn't recognize. They took him to Lestrade's office, where Sally was sent off, and they sat there, the boy curled up on Sherlock's lap.

"Did I fail the test?"

"No, it wasn't a test." Sherlock said. "We were seeing who was the right person. They weren't it. We didn't find him. The door opened, and three people came in. Sherlock only recognized two of them, but he figured out the third person.

"Sherlock Holmes, Jonah, these are my kids, Collin, and Suzie. Guys, this is Sherlock and Jonah."

"Hi!" Suzie said. "He's sweet, Dad."

"Hey, buddy. Dad the clothes are here." He had a box next to his feet.

"I'll take them on my way out." Sherlock said. "Thank you." Collin nodded, and shook his head.

"Daddy, Mr. Holmes, this is my boyfriend Eric." Jonah, who had been looking at Collin, looked up at Eric, then looked instantly terrified. He screamed.

"No, don't hurt me!" He shouted, scrambling off of Sherlock's lap, and running.

"What the-" Eric shouted.

"What did you do to that kid?" Lestrade had Eric by the shirt, pressed to the wall.

"I've never seen that kid before!" Lestrade laughed. "I'm serious!"

"He's telling the truth." Sherlock said. "Lestrade, let him go, or you'll be under arrest for assult of your daughter's boyfriend. Do you have a close resemblance to someone he may know?" Eric looked at them, then froze.

"Oh, God. I knew it. I told them." He sat in a chair, and dropped his head to his hands. Then, he looked up. "I've got a twin."

"Get his address, I'll get Jonah." Sherlock left the office, and looked around.

"Jonah's hiding under Sally's desk." Anderson said. "He's terrified."

"I know." Sherlock said, going over to her desk, and kneeling down. "Jonah?" Before Sherlock could ask what was wrong, Jonah went barreling into him, clinging on for dear life.

"What in the world?" Sally asked.

"Don't let him hurt me!" The boy wailed. It took everything in Sherlock to not fall apart then. _What's wrong with me, I'm an emotional mess. It's this change with Molly._

"Jonah, listen. It isn't Eric." Sherlock pulled Jonah off of him. "Eric has a twin."

Fifteen mintues later, and Sal was in an interrogating room, Jonah watching, looking scared.

"That's him!: He said in a whisper, clinging to Sherlock.

"No, I didn't kill the other women." Sal said. "No, it was someone else, though."

"Who?"

"My father."


	4. The Meeting

Sherlock, carrying the box of clothes, went inside, Jonah behind him with Lestrade. Sherlock went in,the doorway through the kitchen. Laughter was heard drifting from the living room.

"Sherlock?"

"Busy." He stumbled across the kitchen, and he kicked open his ajar bedroom door, dropping the box, then closing the door. Jonah stood bashfully in the kitchen, nervous. Sherlock scooped him up, and threw the boy over his shoulder. Jonah giggled.

"Sherlock..." John looked momentarily surprised, but he recovered quickly. "Sherlock, Greg, Jonah. Guys, this is Mary." Mary looked at Sherlock and grinned. Sherlock put Jonah on the couch, his face red from the blood rushing to his head.

"Hello." She said, shaking hands with Sherlock. "You're the one that solves cases."

"The very same." Sherlock said. "This is my adopted son, Jonah."

"John, you didn't tell me Sherlock had a boy."

"He didn't until about..." John checked his watch. "Five hours ago." Jonah looked at Mary.

"You're pretty." He said. John smiled.

"Yeah, Jonah, I think so too." Mary blushed. A teenage girl was sitting near Jonah. "This is Lucy. She's Mary's adopted daughter." Sherlock shook hands with her, and sat on the couch. After the introductions were made, John finally turned to Sherlock. "Solve the case?"

"Oh, yes. I'm taking Jonah out shopping for a few things tomorrow." John looked surprised.

"Who are you, and what have you done with Sherlock Holmes."

"Please. I'm just in a fantastic mood." Sherlock jumped up at the sound of a kitchen buzzer. "I'm on fire!" He shouted, walking away. They stared after him.

"Is he always like that?" Mary asked.

"Usually he's worse." Lestrade said. "Let's eat." Jonah followed them. He giggled, and ran to catch up with Sherlock, who scooped him up, and plopped him into a chair. Sherlock smiled at Jonah, who was grinning. John smirked at Lestrade, and they sat down to eat. John noticed Sherlock was eating.

"Did you finish the case then?"

"In two hours."

"After all this time?"

"Well, Jonah helped." Sherlock said. "We'll talk about that in a minute."

"Whose blood was stripped of it's DNA?" John asked.

"Interestingly, it wasn't it was fake blood." Sherlock said. "So, our red herring."

"All right, enough about this case, I want to eat without the talk of murder, if you don't mind." Lestrade said. Sherlock and John smirked, and went quiet.

"So, Sherlock." Mary said. Sherlock froze momentarily, thinking _Oh God, what kind of questions am I going to be forced to answer _now_?_ "John says you're a consulting detective. Does that mean you're freelance? Or strictly Scotland Yard."

"I work with Scotland Yard, but we do get cases from others."

"We?" Lucy asked.

"John helps me out...well, when he's not working at Barts anyway." Sherlock said. John smirked.

"So, what kind of cases do you get into?" Lucy asked. Sherlock went quite for a long moment.

"They vary." John grinned.

"We met a guy who had a website who wrote about the true meaning of comic books, The only problem was, is that they kept coming true. In real life."

"It was rather interesting." Sherlock had to agree.

"Who was doing it?" Jonah asked.

"Some actor that was hired by a fan of the website." Sherlock said. Jonah nodded, like he was comprehending everything.

"Well, then there was the Chinese gangsters." John laughed.

"That was interesting. Poor Sarah."

"Sarah?" Mary asked. John paled. Sherlock smirked.

"An ex girlfriend of John's." Sherlock said. "Same profession, but rather annoying."

"We're still friends, Sherlock. Remember, we worked together for a while."

"Don't get so defensive, you act like I care that you have a dating past."

"A rather unsettling one, actually." Sherlock said, grinning. John flushed.

"Only because at a moment's notice I'd have to run off after you for a case." John retorted.

"Now, look, Sherlock. Like you have room to talk. You haven't seen anyone in..." Lestrade calculated the years in half a second, "Nineteen years."

"Mine was a traumatic situation, John just...well, I'm not sure."

"They thought we were...like Mrs. Turner's married ones." John said. Sherlock looked confused.

"Nobody thought that." Mary laughed.

"Sherlock, are you kidding? People used to ask Molly why she liked you, because everyone thought you were...in love with someone else."

"Of the same sex? That's a disturbing thought." Not that Sherlock had a problem with it. "I can't even picture myself in a relationship with...a woman. Let alone another man. Besides...after knowing what I'm doing, he could have done with another girl. Not a chance." Jonah looked really confsued.

"But, I thought you liked that pretty lady from the hospital." Sherlock looked at Jonah.

"Molly Hooper?" Lestrade laughed when John looked at him in shock.

"Sherlock, you think Molly is pretty?"

"How many other women do you know that I talk to, and tolerate for that matter, in St. Barts mortuary."

"Sherlock, she's the only woman in St. Barts mortuary." Lestrade said.

"I rest my case." Sherlock said. "Jonah, in response to your question, no, I do not _like_ Molly Hooper." Sherlock went quite for a second.

"Liar." John mouthed. Sherlock ignored him. Jonah ate quietly after that. John and Mary talked about work, and Lucy asked Lestrade about his job. Sherlock and Jonah were first to finish eating. Sherlock put away their plates, and went off. He lead Jonah into the living room for a while, and found him some blank paper, and a box of crayons he used once as a wax experiment, and handed them to Jonah, so he could colour. Sherlock left for three minutes to use the toilets. When he came back, he found John and Mary sitting on the couch, Lucy in John's chair, and Lestrade sprawled across the floor, colouring with Jonah. Sherlock smiled, and sat in his favourite chair. Lucy looked at him.

"So, what other cases have you been on?"

"Some, I can't tell you. The British Government forbids it." Lucy looked impressed.

"Wow, that high-profile?"

"No, my brother hands me good cases, and sense he _is_ the British Government, the cases tend to be on a government level. I can tell you though we did get into an intriguing one with a dominatrix nearly four years ago."

"Sherlock, is that really an appropriate story?" John asked.

"I wasn't going to tell her what we did, apparently I'd be arrested." Lucy smiled. "What else...there was the Richard Brook incident."

"I followed that." Mary said. "You know, I thought something didn't make sense, but I wasn't sure what."

"Have you ever had a German lesson?" Mary nodded. "Think of the name Richard Brook in German."

"...Richard Brook...Reichen Bach. Oh, my!"

"See, my uncle still thinks you're a raving lunatic. I told him mum waasn't stupid. I already knew, but nobody listened to me."

"Much like me and the Carl Powers case." Sherlock said.

"You mean, the boy that had a seizure in the pool and died? What happened?"

"Murder. His shoes were covered in his eczema medication. The medication had the poison in it."

"How could you have possibly figured that out?" Lucy asked.

"We were given the shoes." Sherlock said. "By James Moriarty."

"What was he like?" Lucy asked. "As crazed as he looked in the pictures after the crown jewels were broken into?" Sherlock chuckled.

"Come on, Luce, he's a psychopath who prey's on women to get to detectives, then almost kills someone with SemTex, of course he's crazed." Mary said. Lucy laughed.

"True."

"He was like me, but worse."

"Sherlock, there's a difference between a sociopath and a psychopath."

"Again, like be, but worse." Sherlock said, sprawling across his chair in a bored fashion.

"Sherlock." He lifted his head to find that Jonah had curled up in a ball, and promptly fallen asleep. Sherlock stood.

"I'll be off to bed myself, then." Sherlock said, gently picking up Jonah, and carrying him to their bedroom. Sherlock laid him gently on his bed, and noted that the alarm clock read 8pm. It was early, but he knew the excitement must have worn the small boy out. Sherlock dropped a gentle kiss on Jonah's head, before taking his clothes off, and climbing in bed next to the boy.

The following morning, Sherlock was wide awake and making breakfast before Jonah or John got out of bed.

"Sherlock, this is a surprise." Sherlock ignored John, and consentrated on his pancakes. He put two on a plate, and handed the plate, a plastic knife, and butter to Jonah. Sherlock trusted Jonah, but a six year old boy doesn't really need a real knife. The boy bit into his pancakes as Sherlock served John and himself.

"Sherlock, these are yummy!" He said, excited. Sherlock figured the boy must not have had a lot of decent food if he thought _his_ cooking was good. Then John took a bite.

"He's right, these are good." John said. "Very impressed." Sherlock blushed slightly, but said nothing. John finished quickly, and went to shower, and get dressed for work. On his way out the door, he bade Jonah and Sherlock goodbye, and went on his way. Sherlock realized he would need a babysitter for tonight. He called for Mrs. Hudson.

"What is it, dear?" She asked.

"I need someone to watch Jonah for me tonight, I have plans. Would you mind?"

"Not at all, love!" She kissed his cheek. "You just leave it to me."

"Also, Mrs. Hudson?" She looked at him. Suddenly, he was nervous, blushing, and looking at his feet. Mrs. Hudson could have sworn she saw her surrogate son looking...bashful.

"Yes, Sherlock?" She asked him.

"I've got plans tonight...with Molly Hooper." Mrs. Hudson looked surprised. "Do I bring her a flower? Or something?"

"I would bring her flowers. I can get those for you."

"Actually, no need Mrs. Hudson. I need to take Jonah to get some things for him."

"Why don't I come along. You could use an extra hand." Sherlock didn't protest, but looked relieved.

"Thank you." He kissed her cheek, and went off. "Jonah, come here. We'll get you dressed, and then we're going out." Sherlock said. He was already showered and dressed for the day. He let Jonah shower himself, and they pulled some clothes on him, before heading into the night.


	5. The Dates

Sherlock and Mrs. Hudson went into the store, and found a cart. Sherlock dropped Jonah into the back, fearing the boy may wear out quickly, but was also to big for the seat up front. Jonah sat quietly in the back, looking pleased. They went to the clothing section first. Although Lestrade's generous donation would help, the clothes were still a bit big on the boy, and he'd need a few things to fit, expecially sense Sherlock wanted the boy put into schools. Good schools.

After the clothing aisle, Sherlock took him down the toy aisle, and got him a few things to play with inside, and outside. Jonah, because he was being so good about the entire situation, got to pick out one thing that was really nice. The boy went for a skateboard. Sherlock wanted to laugh. He knew John used to skateboard, and Sherlock himself had dabbled in it (as a teenager, not so much after that) and he knew the injuries it caused, but it was an adventure. Sherlock liked adventure. He picked out a helmet, knee pads, elbow pads, and the fingerless gloves that they wear. While Sherlock went to check out, Mrs. Hudson ran off to get them a few more things she thought she could give as presents, and a few things to do when Jonah came over for the night. Afterwords, they went to lunch.

They were in a small cafe just next door to Barts. Jonah ate, and talked without, much to Sherlock's and Mrs. Hudson's pleasure, reservations or fear. Sherlock responded with equal enthusiasm, and several people looked after in surprise. Was this the great Sherlock Holmes? With a child? Nobody bothered them though.

"Sherlock?" He looked up. Mary and Molly were standing nearby.

"Molly, Mary." Sherlock said. "Aren't you supposed to be at work?"

"It's my early day, so Mary and I are going to lunch. Is John still working?"

"Yes, I believe so." Mary smiled.

"No, he's coming this way with Mike." The two men were approaching. "Maybe we can join them for lunch. Are you guys finishing up?"

"Yes." Mrs. Hudson said. John approached, and kissed Mary.

"Love, Mike and I were planning on going out, his wife wants to join us. You all right with that?"

"Absolutely. What about you Molly?"

"I'd love to, but I have plans tonight."

"Maybe you and him can join us later for a drink."

"All right...I'll have to try." Sherlock bit back a smirk. Molly looked at him. Sherlock, having paid the bill, rose to his feet to look at Molly.

"We'll have to certainly try." Sherlock said. "Enjoy you're lunch, Molly. Mary." Mary smiled. Molly wanted to laugh.

"I'll see you tonight." Molly said.

"Eight sharp." John looked at them in shock. Sherlock ignored him, scooped up Jonah, picked up several bags, and then said, "Oh, Molly, don't forget, my mother's gathering is this Friday." It was in two days.

"All right." Molly said. Mary looked surprised, John absolutely flabbergasted, and Mike like he thought he was dreaming. Sherlock walked away, Mrs. Hudson right beside him.

"You never told me you were going out with Sherlock." Mary said. Molly wanted to laugh at the look on all of their faces.

"For crying out loud, you guys, my love life isn't your business. Now, I'm starving. What's for lunch?" She sat down at an empty table.

Sherlock picked up a dozen roses for Molly, then a charm bracelet for his mother. He found four charms to symbolize Sherlock, Mycroft, his mother, and each of their parents. After all, his mother liked that sort of thing.

Once they got back, Jonah curled up on the couch for a nap. Sherlock had fed him a snack, before he opened one of the many toys, and began putting them together. He had his ear buds in, listening to music by Bach, Chopin, Mozart, anyone classical. There were even a few contemporary pieces by solo violinists, and pianists. He worked at putting some of the things together, so that Jonah wouldn't be bored tonight when he went out. At five, John came home. Jonah was racing a few Matchbox Cars around the living room.

"Um...Sherlock?"

"John, I'm trying to get some of this put together. Mrs. Hudson will be babysitting tonight." He looked at John. "What?" He looked at John in surprise. "All ready? How long have you been seeing s. Morstan now?"

"What?"

"You're going to ask her to marry you." John collapsed in his chair.

"Oh, yeah." He said. "I'm leaving in an hour."

"Go, get ready."

"You think I should?"

"John." He stood up. "I can actually tolerate this one. She's not dull, she's convenient, and content with our working together. It works perfectly." John took a deep breath.

"All right." He got up to shower. Jonah looked at Sherlock.

"Sherlock?" He asked. Sherlock looked at Jonah.

"Yes, son?"

"Do you love her?"

"Who?"

"The pretty lady you said you were taking to dinner." Jonah looked at Sherlock in pure innocence. Sherlock looked at Jonah, and a thousand memories, thoughts, and feelings flooded his brain.

"I don't know." He said. Jonah crawled over to Sherlock, and sat on his knees in front of Sherlock.

"I hope you do. She makes you happy. And...I want you to be happy. My Mummy wasn't happy, not with the bad man that was my Daddy." Jonah looked him in the eye. "And I want my new family to be happy." Sherlock swallowed, trying and failing to remove the large lump that had lodged itself in his throat.

"Thank you, Jonah." Jonah climbed into Sherlock's lap, and hugged him. They sat there until John came out, wearing a new suit, and looking really nervous.

"Wish me luck."

"Good luck Uncle John." Jonah had taken to calling John "Uncle" for a while. Sherlock and John wanted the boy to be happy, and comfortable. If it meant calling someone Uncle, so be it. Sherlock and Jonah raced the small cars around, until Sherlock needed to get ready for his own date. Jonah asked if he could help. Sherlock nodded, and changed. He wore the purple shirt that made Molly's eyes light up, and one of his nicer suits (not that they weren't all nice, some of them were just better than others) and he found his shoe polish to shine those. Afterwords, he went out, and looked at Jonah. The boy looked at him questioningly.

"I think she'll like you. But, where's your tie?"

"I don't wear ties." Sherlock owned one, but he didn't wear it. Only to family weddings.

"But it's the first date. You should wear a tie." Sherlock sighed in defeat, and pulled out the black tie. He clipped it into place, and went into the living room. Jonah grinned.

"You look good, Sherlock." Sherlock smiled at the grin that lit up Jonah's face.

"All right. You be good for Mrs. Hudson." Jonah nodded.

"I promise." He said. Mrs. Hudson came upstairs ten minutes before Sherlock had to leave. Sherlock gave Mrs. Hudson the last instructions, finished cooking Jonah's dinner, and bade his goodbyes. Sherlock pulled on his coat, fastened his scarf, grabbed the roses, and left. Hailing a taxi, Sherlock looked around. The peace was welcome for the night. For only one night, he was glad a case hadn't stopped him. Lestrade wasn't aware, unless John had told him. Or Molly. The pair of them seemed close. Not like John and Mary, Sherlock realized. Like...

Like Sherlock and Mrs. Hudson close.

How convenient, actually. Sherlock climbed into the taxi, and rattled off Molly's address, before relaxing in his seat. He waited patiently. Tonight, he was going to do a lot of outstepping his comfort zone. Let's hope that...Sherlock paused his thoughts right there, not dwelling anymore.

He threw a few notes at the cabbie, told him to keep the change, and left. He pressed the buzzer to Molly's apartment and waited.

"Who is it?"

"It's me." Sherlock said.

"Sherlock, you have a key."

"Yes, but I was informed that it was rude on a date to walk in like that." Sherlock said, smirking at Mrs. Hudson's lecture. She had gone on about it all day.

"You actually have a conscience? Wow." Sherlock rolled his eyes.

"I'm cold, may I please come in?" He wasn't actually cold, but he didn't want Molly's flowers to die.

"Sure, hold on." She buzzed him in, and he went up to her flat, knocking on the door. She opened in, and he offered her the flowers.

"These are for me?"

"Yes. I bought them specifically for you." Sherlock said. Molly let him in. They had a few moments. Sherlock looked at her, and gasped.

Molly's figure was hugged by a long, black dress, that accented her curves, her figure, even her breasts. Sherlock found that her hair was not done herself, like her make up. He looked her up and down in shock.

"You like?" She asked. "I can't take credit for the make up and hair. Mary helped me."

"You look...beautiful." Sherlock usually wasn't one for compliments, but he was one for the truth. And in actuality, she had asked him if he liked her look or not. She blushed and grinned.

"That was really sweet, Sherlock." She knew this was all newer to him. He shuffled his feet uncomfortably. "Wow, you even wore a tie for me?" Sherlock blushed.

"Jonah made me." He said. Molly laughed.

"No, it's nice. I like it." Sherlock could look good in anything, Molly decided. Sherlock helped Molly onto her coat (his mother had taught him how to be a gentleman, and he wouldn't disappoint now) and she took his arm as they went down to the cab he ordered. They went into the cab.

"So, where exactly are we going?" Molly asked, as Sherlock opened the door for her.

"One of my favorite places. I thought you might like it though." The drove around for a while, before they arrived a beautiful, Italian structure.

"Is this authentic Italian food? Not just what the British make?"

"Pure authentic." Sherlock got out of the car, and offered his hand. He went through the door, where he was greeted by a waiter.

"Good evening Mr. Holmes. I'll get you seated right away."

"Are you a regular here or something?" Molly asked. Sherlock nodded.

"I also helped the owner out of a murder charge. He was in Italy, when the murder happened. Actually, he was one of my first cases." Sherlock said. Molly giggled. They sat down, and a man in a nice, Italian suit, tailored to fit him perfectly.

"Sherlock.

"Marco." Sherlock shook Marco's hand. "My date, Molly Hooper." Sherlock said, gesturing to Molly. She smiled and blushed.

"Molly. She's gorgeous, Sherlock. Listen, anything you guys want, on the house." It seemed to Sherlock that people he knew from cases liked to give him free things when he was with someone. Like now.

"Thank you, Marco." Sherlock sat, after removing his coat, and helping Molly remove hers.

"Free? That's rather generous."

"He did that when Lestrade and I came in. John and I as well. Angelo's does that no matter what. But places tend to offer me things 'on the house' if I've got a companion." Sherlock said. Molly giggled.

"I think people like that you have friends, Sherlock." Molly said.

"That may be, but I'd rather not have special treatment." Sherlock looked through a menu. After carefully choosing something he rather liked, he put the menu down, and watched Molly. He found her facinating, watching her choose. As she thought, she looked at each word, at each dish presented on the menu. Sherlock noticed they had opened the dance floor for the night. He wondered exactly how good Molly Hooper was at dancing.

After they ordered their meals (both pasta) Sherlock perked up when a familiar song played over the speakers.

"You know this one."

"Sunrise Over the Ocean Tim Janis." Sherlock looked at her. "Care to dance, Molly Hooper?" Molly blushed in surprise, but smiled.

"I would love to." He took her out, and twirled her around the dance floor. They were suddenly in the center, dancing and grabbing the attention of the other customers and employees. They clapped when Sherlock took Molly in for a deep dip, and he pulled her back in, much closer than before. She looked content, in his arms, and twirling around. At the end, they looked around to find the entire restaurant clapping.

"Do you usually get applause for dancing?"

"Not sense my mother allowed me to drop Competitive Ballroom Dancing." Sherlock said. Molly wasn't surprised he'd had ballroom dancing lessons. She wondered what else he could do. _Everything_ Molly thought sarcastically. They caught John and Mary.

"Aren't they supposed to meet up with Mike and Erica soon?"

"And Lestrade, evidently." Sherlock said. "I overheard him phone conversation with Lestrade, asking if they would like to join him."

"Who's they?"

"Lestrade and his wife." Lestrade had been recently remarried to someone working for an up-and-coming newspaper called _the Daily Londoner_ and she was trying to get a few interviews with the employees at Scotland Yard. Now, that officially included Sherlock.

Yes, he now worked on a case by case basis for Scotland Yard. He was their permanent consultant, as payback for arresting him (which didn't get very far) and for thinking he was a fraud. Even Sally and Anderson had been nicer to him.

"Are we going to join them?"

"If you want to. I'd rather not." She knew he wanted to get back to Jonah.

"Look, Sherlock. Jonah's fine. We'll stay, have a drink or two, and go home. Everything will be all right." Sherlock nodded.

"I'm not one for bar's, I'll warn you now."

"Me either."

"Or beer." Sherlock replied.

"I'm more of a wine drinker, once in a while. Like tonight." She lifted her glass of fine Italian wine, and sipped it. "This is good."

"It's one of my favorite's." Sherlock admitted, swirling it in his glass, taking a slight sniff, and sipping it. Molly thought he looked a bit like a professional wine taster. "Marvelous." Sherlock said. "As usual." Their food arrived. Sherlock bit into his food, and almost, not quite, groaned. It was the best food he'd had in nearly two weeks, with the case, and cooking now for Jonah. Not that he minded, but his options were limited when he had a six year old who, he was trying to make sure had a healthy weight gain. Sherlock watched Molly take a bite, then groan.

"This is amazing." She said. "Here, try some." They had often done this when they lived together. If Molly particularly liked something, then she shared it with Sherlock. And vice versa, unless he was fasting from his case of taking down Moriarty's network. Molly had learned the hard way that if she didn't offer to share, he would pick things off her plate. She tried to do it back, but he got angry. Proving her point, he stopped.

Sherlock leaned in, holding his tie away from his plate _Exactly why I don't like wearing ties_, and taking a delicate bite. He chewed for a moment."That is rather good." He said. "Here." Without thinking anything of it, he used his own fork to give Molly a taste of what he had ordered. Molly took a bite, and her face lit up.

"This is amazing." Sherlock could feel eyes on him, and looked over to find an elderly couple looking at them as if they were highly endearing. Sherlock looked away awkwardly, and went back to dinner.

"What did you go shopping for today?"

"Jonah, mostly. He needed a few playthings, and some clothes. Lestrade's donations were a bit big for him, but nothing he won't grow into later, and he picked out a skateboard."

"Can you teach him how to ride it?"

"Of course I can. I was a boy once." The idea that Sherlock could skateboard surprised Molly.

"You seem like you weren't into sports."

"I played them, because my brother's friends were good at them, and asked me to join them often. I liked my brother's friends." Sherlock had no other friends growing up. To this day, he'll occasionally get an email, or see them around London and they stop. "I actually owe a couple of them quite a lot." The therapy, the rehab that was free (connections are a wonderful thing, Sherlock decided) the attempts to make it better, to make the pain stop. Sherlock looked at Molly, who was watching him.

"That's like what Greg and I have. An owing friendship."

"How did you meet Lestrade?"

"I was on campus one day at uni, and I was mugged." She said, swallowing her food. "He was the one to rescue me, and arrest the guy. He even got my things back." Molly said. "I've never known quite how to repay him."

"Wasn't it you that set him up with...his wife."

"Megan? No, Mary knew her. And Mary knew that I was friends with Lestrade, John, you."

"Megan, that's her name."

"Megan is a lot like Greg."

"That's what I need, two Lestrade's." Sherlock groaned. Molly laughed.

"His kids like her, though. That's what is really important. They're happy together. All four of them." Sherlock fiddled with his food.

"Look, Molly." He said. "The past three years were...nothing, anybody has ever given me. You have given me hope, love, and my life back. I don't really know how to repay you. It's moments like these, where we can sit down, have a quiet dinner, and a good time, without people being annoying, or in the way, and I always realize something. You love me. And I've always said 'sentiment is a chemical found in the losing side.' But...it's not. Right now, with you here, and Jonah at home with Mrs. Hudson...I feel stronger. I don't feel like it's a weakness. I see John, and he's stronger than ever with Mary. Lestrade's stronger, and a better father with Megan. I feel stronger, and we're not even dating. I would like to take you tomorrow to my mother's party, not as my guest, or a date, but as my girlfriend." Sherlock caught the tears filling Molly's eyes. "May I have that honor?" Her response threw him off.

She laughed, teary eyed, but looked him dead in the eye. "Why the hell would you even ask that question?" She stood, walked towards him, and kissed him. Sherlock deepened the kiss immediately. They broke apart, and grinned. Molly looked over, and got excited.

"Sherlock, look." He turned to look, and found John on one knee, the ring in his hand, Mary crying for all she was worth. She nodded. John jumped up, and held onto her tight. Sherlock didn't react, but politely clapped with the crowd.

"You don't expect me to be like that, do you?" He asked her. "Jumping for joy, and always loving and happy."

"No." Molly said. "I expect you to be you. I like you, not what you try and change for me." Sherlock simply nodded. They ate in a content silence, and paid the bill, before heading to the bar meeting between homes. Sherlock walked in, to find John, Greg, Mike, Mary, Megan, and...Mike's wife. What was her name?

"Sherlock, Molly!" John said. "Come join us." Molly sat down.

"We just saw you at the restaurant." Molly said.

"So did we. Sense when do you dance?"

"Ballroom? Um...two hours ago." Molly admitted.

"Really? It didn't look like it." John said. She blushed. Sherlock looked faintly surprised.

"What were you guys doing out?"

"Having dinner." Molly said. Sherlock and John glanced at one another, and they struggled to keep straight faces. They bit back laughs, but their smirks weren't all that well hidden. Molly looked confused.

"Do I want to know?" Lestrade asked.

"Believe me Greg, some things are better left unsaid." John said. Sherlock looked at John, and they both burst out laughing. Molly giggled, because their laughter was contagious. She didn't get to see Sherlock laugh a lot, so it was nice. It felt good to hear. His deep, baritone laugh was, she had to admit, rather sexy.

"A lot of things are better left unsaid." Sherlock finally agreed.

"Oh, introductions." Lestrade said. "Mike, Sherlock, this is my wife Megan. Megan, love, this is Mike Stamford, and Sherlock Holmes. You know Molly."

"Of course I do." She said. She shook hands around the table. "Nice to meet you." The waiter came by for drinks. Sherlock ordered a whiskey, and Molly got a glass of water.

"Oh, come on, you not drinking?" Greg asked.

"Not tonight, had a bit at dinner already." Sherlock leaned back in his chair.

"Where did you go for dinner?" Mike asked them.

"_Casa della Pasta."_ Sherlock said, his Italian flawless. Of course, most of what he did was seemingly flawless.

"You speak Italian?" John asked.

"Not much. Conversational." Sherlock said. "I needed it for a case in Rome."

"You went to Rome?" Molly asked. Sherlock nodded.

"Quite some time before I started working with you, actually." Sherlock said. "I was just starting out as a consulting detective. It was my fourth ever case."

"Do you remember all of your cases?" Lestrade asked. Sherlock looked at him like it was a really stupid question.

"Of course I do." Sherlock took a sip of his whiskey. "Mind palace, remember?"

"Mind palace?" Megan asked.

"It's his way of remembering everything." John said. Mary looked interested.

"How does it work?" Sherlock internally sighed. He'd already explained this to John.

"Each room has a category, each category sorted by file, each file containing pieces of information I might use."

"Like what?" Molly asked.

"For example, the bruises."

"Bruises?"

"The first day I met you John, I mentioned I left my riding crop in the mortuary. I was whipping a dead bod to test out what bruises formed within twenty minutes. It was for a case. I may need that later." Sherlock said simply, like this was the most obvious conclusion ever.

"Oh." John said.

"What happened with that case?"

"Done, the second you texted me." Sherlock said, taking another drink of his whiskey. It must be "question Sherlock Holmes day" or something.

"How's Jonah?" Lestrade asked. Sherlock grinned.

"Fantastic. Mrs. Hudson's keeping an eye on him now for me. He's doing wonderful, he's healing. He does wake up from nightmares, and he's gaining a healthy weight again." Sherlock thoight for a moment. "Why would he trust me so easily, though?"

"Normally, kids go through a time when they can't trust anyone in that situation." John said. "Unless they have a special bond with someone. You may be his special bond." Sherlock liked that. He liked having someone need him, he liked feeling...wanted. It was rather ludicrous, but it was still a nice feeling. He was always "needed" for cases, but this was better. It was more important. This was better.

After another half an hour, Sherlock and Molly decided to leave, Sherlock wanting to get home to Jonah, and Molly wanting to sleep. They bade their good nights with a kiss, and headed home. Sherlock went inside, to find Mrs. Hudson reading, and Jonah not in plain sight.

"Put him to bed just an hour ago." Mrs. Hudson said. "He's been such a good boy. Just like you!" Sherlock smiled at her, hanging up his coat, and kissing her cheek.

"Thank you, Mrs. Hudson." She hugged him, and went back to her own flat, while Sherlock went into his bedroom. He watched as Jonah slept deeply, breathing evenly and looking peaceful, innocent. A single tear ran down Sherlock's face.

"Goodnight, my son." He whispered.


	6. The Lessons

"What do you mean, you have two guests?" Sherlock looked up at Mycroft.

"Exactly that." He said.

"But John was separately invited." John had met Sherlock's mother at Sherlock's funeral, and then again after he came back from the dead, although the meeting was very brief. "Who else would you be bringing aside from that Hooper girl?"

"Girl? Hardly, Mycroft. She's thirty-two." Sherlock was looking through his paper, wearing an old t-shirt, plaid pajama pants, and his dressing gown. John was looking at his laptop, checking his emails.

"That wasn't the point, Sherlock. Who else are you with?"

"I'm not _with_ anyone." Sherlock said. He believed he wasn't _with_ Molly. He was, dare he say it, _dating _Molly. He felt that was quite different. Being with someone was like having a claim on her, like she was property. Sherlock knew, from his parents teachings, women were not to be treated like property.

"Then why two?" A small, drowsy-looking figure emerged from the bedroom, black,curly hair mused from sleep, and rubbing his eyes. "You can't be serious."

"I adopted Jonah. Jonah, this is my brother, Mycroft."

"Hello, Mr. Holmes." Jonah smiled at Sherlock's brother. "Nice to meet you." He yawned.

"Sleep well, kid?" John asked. He nodded, the giggled when Sherlock promptly scooped him up, and threw him over his shoulder. Sherlock was taking the boy to get a bit of breakfast, before he took him to get a suit for Mummy's party. After all, he couldn't have his son under dressed.

"Sherlock, you can't be serious. You adopted a boy?"

"Jonah is now legally my son. The papers were signed yesterday." Sherlock dropped two slices of bread in the toaster, and turned it on, then turned to make tea.

"No, don't reprimand him, Mycroft. He actually cleans this place now. And he makes food." Sherlock ignored John's gentle teasing.

"Regardless, Sherlock's had a past with-"

"I'm perfectly in control. Of all the situations." Sherlock said. Mycroft didn't look like he believed his brother for a second. "Besides, like Mummy would care." Sherlock turned when the toaster popped up. Jonah flinched. John looked concerned. Sherlock buttered the toast, slathered a bit of honey on it, and dropped it in front of Jonah. He bit right into it. His face lit up.

"This is yummy." He said. Sherlock grinned, and rumpled his hair.

"Eat up, son." He said, pouring tea. The wonderful thing about Jonah, was he ate whatever you put in front of him. Sherlock thought it made his job a bit easier. Sherlock sat down, and sipped his tea.

"If this is another one of your experiments-"

"Nonsense." Sherlock said. "Jonah is mine, I wouldn't give him back." Jonah looked at Sherlock like it was Christmas.

"Really?" Sherlock shook his head. "I wouldn't want to leave." Sherlock smiled. Jonah went back to his toast, and John looked on in surprise. Mycroft left, out of sheer annoyance.

After Jonah finished breakfast, they both got dressed, and headed out the door. Jonah was going to get a suit today, from the tailor Sherlock used for his own suits.

"Sherlock." He said. "What are you in for today?"

"A suit." Sherlock scooped up Jonah, and plopped him on the counter. "Jonah here is going to meet Mummy."

"Ah, want to put on an impression."

"No, I want him to look nice." Sherlock said. "A good impression will just be a sided bonus." Sherlock didn't believe in first impressions. He read through people before they walked through the door, never mind their clothes, style, scent, attitude, or posture. Sherlock didn't bother with that thing. He read people before they could even take the first step into a room. "I need your best, Eric." Sherlock lifted Jonah off the counter, and onto the floor, where he followed Eric into a room. They put a suit on him, and then stood him on a tall stool. He was instructed to stay very still. So, he did just that, although he did make conversation with Sherlock and Eric. Soon enough, they had the suit, and Sherlock was paying for it. They walked out with the suit, and were heading back to 221B. Sherlock hung up the suit, and instructed Jonah to take a nap, because the party would be late. Granted, they were invited to stay overnight if necessary, but Sherlock didn't want Jonah falling asleep before he could meet anyone. He let Jonah sleep until two, and he got the boy up. He had him shower, and put on clean underclothes. Then, he had the boy put his suit on, with Sherlock's assistance.

Sherlock and Jonah (John would be meeting them at Molly's from Mary's home) made their way into the streets. Despite no blood relations, they looked very similar. From the same style of form-fitting suits, to the curly black hair, piercing blue eyes (although Sherlock's were icy, Jonah's bright) and their cheekbones high, and defined. Despite the fact that their faces looked different, they were both tall, and thin, although the situation was different as to why for both. Sherlock even bought Jonah a coat similar to his own, and had popped the collar for him. He had observed Jonah copying his movements.

They both stood waiting. Sherlock had hailed a taxi, but it was a bit farther down the street. The neighbors looked surprised at the slight imitation of the two. People looked on in surprise. Some took pictures.

The cabbie pulled to the curb, and they got in. Sherlock rattled off Molly's address, and they drove away. Sherlock crossed his legs, and Jonah followed. They arrived quickly at Molly's flat. Sherlock handed him the money for the cab, and the pair clambered from the taxi. They went to the door, Sherlock pressing the buzzer.

"Sherlock?"

"Yes. We're hear."

"Great, so is John. Come on up." Sherlock waited until the door buzzed, before he grabbed the handle and opened it up. Jonah went first, then Sherlock. They took the elevator, because five flights of stairs, while seemingly nothing to the physically fit Sherlock, would have tired out little Jonah. They stepped out, their steps in sync. It was weird. Molly opened the door when Sherlock knocked. She laughed.

"Don't you guys look great? Come on in." They strutted in, in similar manners. John and Mary laughed. Jonah grinned sheepishly. Sherlock smirked.

"Rather good, Jonah. However," He crouched down to Jonah's level. "Next time, add a bit less of your hips into it." Jonah took it seriously, and walked in perfect imitation of Sherlock over to the couch. John burst out laughing.

"He's like a miniature you! He's even got a similar coat." Jonah grinned.

"I like doing what you do." He said. Sherlock smiled, and sat. The buzzer rang. Molly ran to answer it.

"Who'se there?"

"It's Mycroft, Ms. Hooper." They got up, and went downstairs. Mycroft was leaning against the limo, waiting. "Please, get in. We have a two hour drive ahead of us." John and Mary got in first, followed by Lucy, who looked a little shy, then Molly. Sherlock helped Jonah in, and followed his son. He sat next to Molly, one arm around the back of her chair, the other in his lap. Jonah snuggled close to Sherlock. Next to the six foot man, he looked tiny. A tall, skinny, beautiful woman, and a teenaged boy with skinny jeans, high tops, and a plain purple t-shirt on sat, his ear buds crammed in his ears. Lucy also had on skinny jeans and high tops, but her shirt seemed to match, and she looked pretty. Even Sherlock admitted she looked rather formal. Then again, they were teenagers. Sherlock remembered how much he loathed dressing up as a teen. She still looked...presentable. The boy on the other hand looked like he'd refused to change. He probably had, to spite his father.

"Lucinda, Archie." Archie nodded once to Sherlock.

"Brother-in-law." She said. Molly looked at Sherlock in surprise. "Who are these wonderful people?"

"You know John, this is is fiancee, Mary, her adopted daughter Lucy. This is Molly, my pathologist. And my adopted son, Jonah." Jonah smiled shyly at Lucinda. Molly looked a tad nervous. Mycroft sat down beside his wife. John shook her hand, as he was closest. "This is Mycroft's wife, Lucinda, and their son, Archie."

"Hey." Archie muttered, he looked at Lucy, then at up, pulling an ear bud out. "Aren't you the girl who sits behind me in geometry?"

"Yeah. You helped me with my homework the other day." Archie smiled.

"So, all it takes is a girl to get you to talk, Archibald?" Archie rolled his eyes.

"Try friend." He muttered, slouching back into his seat. He nodded at Sherlock. "Hey, Uncle Sherlock."

"Hello, Archie." The boy moved over to sit next to Jonah, across from Lucy. He looked down at Jonah.

"Hey, little man. What's up?" Jonah looked at him shyly.

"Nothing." He said quietly.

"Looks like we're cousins." He said. Jonah nodded. "I like that, I don't have any cousins. How old are you?"

"Um...I'm six."

"I'm sixteen. That's okay." Archie grinned, and glanced up at Sherlock. He smiled and mouthed "Thank you" at his nephew. Archie looked at Jonah, and laughed.

"So, Uncle Sherlock get you to his tailor, then?" Jonah giggled. "Looks like you've got a mini you, Uncle Sherlock." John groaned.

"That's what I need, two of them." Molly giggled. Sherlock raised an eyebrow at her.

"John, don't act like it's such a bad thing. I think it's cute."

"Yeah, until Jonah starts to deduce people."

"De...what?" Jonah asked, confused.

"Deduce, son." Sherlock said. "I can tell you everything about someone by observing everything about them." Jonah looked impressed.

"Is that how you knew where I got my bruises from?" Sherlock nodded. "Is that how you knew that copper guy was going to the dentist?"

"Very good, Jonah. Yes, it was." Sherlock _was_ impressed. Usually, people asked how he knew it, before realizing it. Jonah had picked it up on the spot. "I should teach you how to deduce people." everyone groaned.

"You must be special, I've been begging him for years for him to teach me that." Sherlock looked at Archie.

"That would have required me to have seen you, and require me to put up with my brother annoying me about the idea of teaching the science of deduction to you."

"It's not necessary, Sherlock."

"You can do it, why can't your son?" There was silence. John was saying something to Lucy, who looked a little uncomfortable, and Mary was in full conversation with Molly. Sherlock moved over, ever so slightly, to sit just a tad closer to Molly. She leaned slightly against him. The gesture surprised Archie. "First lesson, and really the only lesson you need, Archie, is to pay attention to everything about people. Everything, even if the details seem insignificant, or boring. They are vital. Everything." Archie nodded. He watched Sherlock closely. After thirty seconds, there was dead silence. Archie had deduced Sherlock with one sentence.

"You and Molly are dating." Everyone stared at the smug teen, before laughing. He looked crestfallen.

"Don't be absurd, Archibald. He's not in a relationship with Molly." Mycroft said. Sherlock and Molly weren't laughing.

"Why is that funny?" Sherlock looked confused. Jonah was looking at them in confusion too. "He deduced correctly." John's eyes were huge. Mary looked surprised, the she slapped Molly with her purse.

"Why didn't you tell me last night?"

"Because it just happened last night, I didn't think we'd tell people so soon." She looked confused.

"Well, I wasn't intending it, but my very keen-eyed nephew decided to give it away." He grinned.

"Cool, I got it right." Lucy looked at him in amazement.

"How did you do that?" She asked.

"Easy. Look at how close their sitting. I noticed that John and your mum were that close too, as were my parents. Sherlock also had his arm around the back of the seat, even though he rarely sits that way. And he's facing towards her, like a couple would sit. He'd sitting a bit more central so that Jonah isn't left out, but at the same time, he's still closer to Molly."

"Impressive." Sherlock said. "Look, Mycroft, he's good at it." Sherlock saw the grin across his nephew's face.

"Actually, that was pretty good, for you know, having not done it before." John said. "It'll be scary when you get as good as your uncle."

"Oh, I see it now." Lucy said. "That does make sense." She smiled shyly at Sherlock, who nodded once back.

"Why don't you try it?" Lucy looked at Archie in horror, and shook her head, turning bright red. "Hey, don't worry. You don't have to." She relaxed. John smiled at her warmly.

"Don't worry, I don't like trying to deduce either." He said. "And Sherlock seems to think I need to." He pointedly glared at Sherlock, who ignored him.

"Jonah, why don't you try?" The boy looked shy, but watched John and Mary for fifteen seconds.

"Are you guys getting married?" John's jaw dropped.

"How could you possibly know that?"

"Now who's keeping secrets?" Molly asked, teasing Mary.

"We weren't going to tell anyone either." They stared at the boy.

"Well...I noticed the ring. It wasn't there when I met you, and it's on your left hand. That's the hand you put rings on when you get married."

"You were in the living room when John told me, Jonah."

"Is that what you were talking about? I thought you were talking about something else." Sherlock smiled at Jonah's pure innocence. Another lump formed in his throat, but he kept the facial expressions the same. "Oh, my shoe's untied." He stretched his arms down, and tied it. "I don't like leaving my shoes untied, I fall too much anyway." He said, snuggling into Sherlock's side. Sherlock reached down to stroke the boy's hair. Mary, John, and Molly were in a conversation. Archie and Lucy in another, and Lucinda and Mycroft a third. That left Jonah and Sherlock a moment. Jonah looked up at Sherlock.

"Sherlock?" He asked in a small voice. Sherlock looked down at the child, who was suddenly nervous. "Do you think that your family will like me?" Sherlock looked surprised. A flashback of nineteen years ago hit his mind, someone else, different gender, older in age, asking Sherlock the same question. He gave the same answer.

"If they don't, remember that I always will." Jonah nodded, and seemed nervous still.

"But...I don't want them to not like me." Sherlock put the scared boy on his lap. "I got hurt by a mean man who didn't like me." Sherlock soothed the small boy by rubbing his back. Everyone was starting to listen in.

"Don't worry, son. That will never happen to you, ever again. I promise."


	7. The Party

They all got out of the limo, leaving the night bags for the butler to get once the limo was in the garage. The house was enormous. It had countless windows, a few with stain glass. The doorway was large, and the yard was about five acres. There was a long porch across the front of the building. A butler stood, waiting them at the door.

"Welcome, Mr. Sherlock, and guests."

"Thank you, Joel." Sherlock said, leading Molly and Jonah inside. The foyer was huge, allowing for thirty people to stand inside comfortably. Molly decided that her two-bedroom flat, while a nice size, could fit a good sixty times inside the house. John looked surprised. Jonah still looked nervous. Sherlock took off his coat, and hung it up in the close by closet, helping Molly from hers, then Jonah. Molly looked stunning, in a long blue dress that hugged her curves in all the right ways. Sherlock looked at her and smiled. He approved. She smiled.

"You look lovely. Relax." He said, taking her through the foyer, and into a room with couches, armchairs, and a fireplace that was fighting off the cold from outside.

"Sherlock." A tall, thin man with glasses, and greying hair was grinning. He held out his arms to Sherlock. Sherlock hugged his father.

"Father." He said warmly. "Where's Mummy?"

"She's still getting ready." So...the family wasn't all messed up. Then why was Sherlock so...odd? "Still off being a detective?"

"Absolutely father. It's my life."

"That's my boy. Following your heart. Now, why don't you introduce me to your little group here." John and Mary came through next.

"This is Doctor John Watson, my flatmate, collegue, best friend, whatever you wish." Sherlock said. "His fiancee, Mary Morstan." They shook hands. "My girlfriend, Doctor Molly Hooper."

"Ah, yes. The pathologist Mycroft was telling me about." He kissed Molly's hand. "How are you, Doctor Hooper?"

"Please, call me Molly." She said, grinning. Sherlock picked up Jonah.

"This is Jonah. I've recently adopted him." Mr. Holmes looked amazed.

"Really? That's wonderful, Sherlock. First, you're seeing someone, and now you have a son. Oh, it's Christmas." He smiled at the nervous boy. "Jonah, how are you?"

"I'm okay."

"Sherlock here treating you well?" He nodded. "Wonderful." Sherlock visibly relaxed. John hadn't realized how tense Sherlock was until he dropped his shoulders, and looked relieved. It was short lived, when Mycroft, Lucinda, Archie, and Lucy walked in.

"Grandpa!" Archie grinned, and hugged Mr. Holmes.

"Archie, my boy!" They greeted one another. John and Mary approached Lucy.

"Mr. Holmes, this is my daughter." Lucy smiled shyly at Sherlock's father.

"Well, how do you do?"

"I'm wonderful. How are you?"

"Fantastic." Molly leaned closer to Sherlock. He leaned in to hear what she had to say.

"You're father's a bit eccentric." Sherlock snorted.

"That's putting it mildly. He's very strange. He's an artist, but he also is retired from Mycroft's current position." That explained things.

"What does your mother do?" She asked curiously.

"She's runs Holmes Law." It was a huge chain of law firms around the country. Molly knew each firm specialized in something different. Like divorce, wills, and court cases.

"You really are related?" Sherlock nodded, and put Archie down. His mother had entered the room from a door off to the left. "Mummy."

"Sherlock, my son." They embraced rather tightly. So, Sherlock was a mama's boy then. "Who do we have here?"

"This is Doctor John Watson, my colleague, friend, flatmate, blah blah blah. His fiancee, Doctor Mary Morstan, and her daughter Lucy. This is my pathologist, and girlfriend Doctor Molly Hooper. And this," Sherlock reached down to rumple Jonah's hair, "Is my son, Jonah."

"You have children?"

"No, a child."

"I'm adopted." Jonah told her. Mrs. Holmes looked at him curiously. Sherlock looked at her back. Jonah looked disappointed; not everyone liked him. After a moment, Mrs. Holmes crouched down to the boy.

"Well, now how do you do, sweetheart?" Jonah looked uncertainly at her.

"I'm okay." He caught the flower pin in her hair. "I like the flower in your hair, it's pretty." That's something else that made Sherlock attach to Jonah; the boy wasn't afraid to speak his mind, no matter what the cost.

"Well, aren't you the sweetest little boy?" Jonah's eyes lit up. Sherlock grinned. Molly wrapped an arm around Sherlock. "So, Doctor Hooper, how exactly do you put up with my son?" She wa only teasing.

"Mother!" He protested. She hushed him.

"Well, we haven't been together long." She admitted. "We only just became boyfriend and girlfriend." Sherlock shook his head.

"She's the one I counted on when Moriarty wanted to take my life from me. She gave it back to me." Mrs. Holmes looked at Sherlock in surprise.

"Really? Well, then. There's more to you two then I thought." Sherlock had one arm around Molly. He agreed. Jonah smiled at her.

"He;s cute." More relatives came in to greet Sherlock, ones who looked on in surprise at Sherlock's girlfriend and son. Sherlock finally sat on the couch with Molly and Jonah. Jonah sat in Sherlock's lap.

"Well, who's this?"

"Jonah is my son." Jonah grinned at the tall, smiling man. "Jonah, this is my Uncle Sebastian." Jsebastian was Sherlock's favorite Uncle. Sherlock was Sebastian's favorite nephew, although he never admitted it to anyone. Several more people greeted them, and Molly was very confused.

"Don't worry, Molly." Sherlock had told her. "It won't be too hard, you'll figure it out." Soon, drinks were served, and they were being ushered into a ballroom, where several tables were lit by candles, and music was floating from the speakers. Sherlock caught sight of the only other family with a child Jonah's age."

"Ah, cousin Roger." Sherlock seemed to like the majority of his family, although they did treat Sherlock with respect and authority, which about soothed the man's ego to no end.

"Sherlock." They shook hands. "You remember my wife, Annabelle. Anna, honey, my cousin Sherlock."

"Yes, very well." Anna said, shaking Sherlock's hand. Sherlock gestured to Molly.

"My girfriend, Doctor Molly Hooper."

"Doctor. Where at?"

"St. Barts. I work in the mortuary." She said.

"Ah, so you met through...work?" Roger asked. Sherlock nodded. A young girl ran towards the group.

"Sherlock!" Sherlock scooped her up and grinned.

"Sally!" He kissed her cheek. "How are you?"

"I'm good. I missed you." Anna looked like it was very endearing. Molly had to agree. Mary and John had joined them.

"I missed you too." He said. John shook his head.

"That will definitely take some getting used to." Sherlock grinned. Molly noticed that Sherlock seemed...normal. Almost...like an ordinary person. She's have to ask him about that later. Maybe even Mycroft.

"Roger, Anna, this is Doctor John Watson, and his fiancee, Doctor Mary Morstan."

"Hello."

"Where's Lucy?"

"I dunno, Archie held her captive." Roger laughed.

"Oh, I bet Mycroft's pleased." Sherlock laughed.

"If he's not, even better." They were grinning. Roger noticed Jonah. Sherlock crouched down, and set Sally down.

"Sally, this is Jonah. Jonah, my cousin Sally. She's also six." They smiled shyly.

"Hi." Jonah said shyly. He was blushing. Roger grinned, as they went off to sit down. Sherlock stood up.

"He yours?" Roger asked.

"Not Molly's. I've adopted him." Sherlock said.

"Good for you, Sherlock." Roger said. "How have you been? I haven't seen you sense...Sally's fourth birthday."

"I've been good."

"I mean, I know about everything in the papers. But I never believed it. Not my cousin. I knew you better than that." Sherlock looked at Roger gratefully.

"Thank you." Sherlock said. Molly looked at him, his family. She wondered if everything he did was an act, and which way he was acting. With Jonah, he was different. With his family, he was different. With John, he was different. With her, he was completely different than this. She wondered if everything he did and said with her was an act. If his friendships weren't real. Sherlock wondered what would lead Molly to this train of thought.

They were dancing, slowly, in the center of a circle. They were quiet, close, and completely alone, even though everyone was surrounding them. Sherlock held onto Molly, until Mr. Holmes cut in.

"Absolutely father." Sherlock walked off, and found his mother to dance with her. They were laughing, and twirling around. Sherlock was really himself, completely unguarded and uninhibited with his mother. There were four people in his life that he allowed in that much: Molly, Roger, his mother...and one person who wasn't. He didn't let John in, and sometimes let Mycroft and Father in.

Well, that's not entirely true about Sherlock. He let Mycroft in a lot when they were younger. They had grown up, very close. Sherlock had no friends, and Mycroft was always there, playing with his baby brother, making sure he knew someone out there cared. They ribbed at one another, but they really were close. They really did care.

So, five people. Even John hadn't seen a glimpse of the real Sherlock, not really.

Molly was wondering about that, as she watched Sherlock dancing with his mother, both grinning.

"What is it?" Mr. Holmes asked. They had taken a moment to sit, and have a drink. She was also making sure Jonah was all right. He was talking to Sally.

"Why is he so..."

"Different?" She nodded. "Honestly, Molly. Here is his childhood, his life. He's the most comfortable here, he feels...safe?" Mr. Holmes guessed. "I know how he comes off in the papers, and to you and John, but it takes a lot for him to let anyone in, even in the slightest. I'm not sure I'm the right person to tell you exactly everything." She nodded. "I'd say he's very close to you." She nodded.

"We grew close when he hid out at my place while he faked his death." Mr. Holmes smirked.

"I knew there was a reason you two were together already." He laughed. "Look, Molly, he's got to have let you in at some point. Maybe you can ask him to let you in further. Tonight?" She nodded. Sherlock was dancing with a new relative. She noticed how he was different with every person he came across. Some, he was relaxed, others, formal. It was unusual.

"Is he really the sociopath he claims to be?" Mr. Holmes laughed.

"Molly, that's farther from the truth than anything. The man is far from it." That was new.

"He said sentiment is a chemical defect found in the losing side. He said caring didn't help anyone." Molly told him. Mr. Holmes sombered.

"That's a completely different story. One that I have no place telling you."

It seemed that there was more to Sherlock than visible to the naked eye. A lot more.


	8. The Secret

Molly had discovered that, out of all the relatives that had shown, the only ones staying besides them were Roger and his family. Everyone else had to leave for work. Sherlock had taken Molly around shown her the place. He had shown her every bedroom, every bathroom. He had shown her the kitchen, the dining room, the den. He showed her the drawing room, the music room (really, just a bedroom where their instruments were) and the courtyard outside. Finally, they made it back to the living room, where Jonah was playing with Sally. Both looked tired. Mr. and Mrs. Holmes sat quietly, romantically. Sherlock handed her the bracelet.

"Here you are, Mummy." Sherlock said. She opened it.

"Oh, Sherlock, this is so sweet." There was a ship (Sherlock liked pirates in his younger days) a calculator (Mycroft liked math a lot) a horse (Mr. Holmes had loved to ride them) and a rose (they were Mummy's favorite flower). "I love it. Sherlock delicately took the bracelet from her, and put it on her wrist.

After Jonah and Sally were found asleep on the couch, did everyone decide it was bedtime. Sherlock lead Molly to a wing of the house she hadn't seen, and entered. There was a small sitting room, with a desk by the window, a large mantel, a couch, and two matching armchairs. There was a bathroom, and two bedrooms. Sherlock woke Jonah enough to get pajamas on him, then put the boy in bed. He changed into his pajamas, and found Molly curled up in the sitting room, already showered, and into her pajamas and dressing gown. One of the cooks had brought them tea.

"Thank you, Darla." Sherlock smiled at her warmly. Sherlock poured Molly a cup of tea, then himself, before sitting next to Molly. He watched her as she watched the fire roaring in the mantle.

"Sherlock. Can I ask you something?"

"Of course." Sherlock sipped his tea.

"You seem...different, when you're around your family. In fact, you have a different side of you for every person you meet. Why is that?" Sherlock looked at her. He sighed.

"I hoped you hadn't noticed that." He said. "Molly, I'm happy here. This is my comfort zone of comfort zones." He sipped his tea. "I'm never truly happy anywhere but home."

"Can I ask why?"

"I saw you talking to my father. I can deduce that you never believed me to be a diagnosed sociopath. I'm not. Well, one doctor did suggest it, and I quite liked the idea. It fit me for playing pirates." Sherlock smiled. Molly was listening, watching him intently. "I'm actually Autistic. Severely, in fact. It's a challenge to shake people's hands, to hug people. But my family, especially Roger, Mycroft, my mother, they've all been so...helpful, with making it less of a challenge. You'll notice my demeanour between you and John is different. John is my best friend, but...there's a lot I can't bring myself to tell him. It's hard. I've never had a friend who was another male, close to my age, that understood. And it makes it difficult to open up to him." Sherlock said. "My bluntness, that's my inability to interact with others. My obsession with Chemistry, that's the characteristic Autistic sign, obsession."

"What about deducing?"

"Mycroft taught me that. Mummy always believed he had a touch of Autism, but it would have been more like Aspberger's syndrome. It's a milder form of it, but there are traits of it. It's in him. I always believed he was the sociopath."

"He's got a wife and kid, though."

"His wife was for convenience, and his son...well, I'm not sure what their relationship is."

"He certainly likes you."

"Archie and his father never got along. Mycroft tends to be away from home a lot, so their relationship is rather strained." Sherlock sipped his tea some more. Sherlock waited for the next question. He knew it was coming.

"Can I ask why you're so good with kids?" Sherlock knew this one was coming. He had seen it sense he had taken in Jonah.

"It's a very difficult past, and a rather painful experience, but, I'll do my best to have you understand." Sherlock began. He stood, put his cup down, and picked up an old picture of a beautiful girl with two kids, laying in the grass that was now being covered with snow. She waited, allowing him the time to gather his thoughts. "I used to be a father." Molly was shocked.

"Are you serious?"

"Completely." He sat down, putting the picture face down on the end table. "I was bullied a lot as a kid because of my Autism." He sipped his tea, knowing she wanted to add in her two cents worth.

"Is that your resistance towards strangers, then?"

"Absolutely." Sherlock replied. "I was hateful of people after the bullying. When I was in high school a lot of that changed.

"Roger had been the only cousin and other male my age, and after my aunt had enough of the bullying, she sent him to school with me, so I could have a friend. Roger would stick up for me, and eventually, so did his girlfriend. You met her tonight."

"Which one?" Sherlock smirked.

"He married her." Molly smiled.

"That's sweet." Sherlock refrained from rolling his eyes.

"Well, Anna had a best friend, and she was rather attractive." Molly looked faintly surprised. "Normally, I didn't really care for girls, but she was...special." Sherlock thought for a moment. Molly was quiet.

"She was like you, but different. She shared my passion for Chemistry, she was in the forensics crime club at school. She read my article on the science of deduction that was published in the school papers. People would ridicule me for that." Sherlock was watching the fire now. "She praised me.

"Her name was Kirsty." Sherlock was smiling. "And she was amazing. You see the teenage couples who have all the same interests, and then some? We were one. At sixteen, you don't really understand what love is, until it comes at you in a pair of basketball shorts, swinging pony tails, and a tank top across the lawn, when you literally fall off your skateboard in shock." Molly giggled. "I was in love. And, even at sixteen, you really don't understand. It was different. I had the IQ and mindset of an adult, and everyone thought we'd get married one day. At the time, I wanted to work in Forensics, so I could use lab equipment, and try my experiments, and do what I loved. I actually had an internship lined up. Everything was wonderful. Then, she got pregnant.

"I knew it was mine, we were each others firsts." Sherlock took a shaky breath. "We were terrified. We told our parents, and, they caught the fact that we were absolutely terrified. I'd taken her to the doctor, who wanted us to get an abortion. I may like murder investigations, but actually sending a child off to it's death repulsed me." Sherlock shuddered. "It wasn't it's fault that I was careless for a night of passion. We decided we wanted to keep the baby. Her parents, the loved that I wanted to stay with her, instead of running off.

"We had a son, named Callum. He was beautiful." Sherlock smiled. "His hair was just like mine, and his eyes were a beautiful green colour, much like his mother's. He was small, but he wa wonderful. A year later, we had a daughter, named Lily. Mycroft liked to joke that we were like rabbits." Molly caught the tears in his eyes.

"What happened?"

"One night, I had come home from uni. We lived together, here. That room that Jonah is in was where Callum and Lily slept. They were so young." He took another shaky breath. "And, I had planned to propose. It was Rogers idea. Anna, Roger, Kirsty and I had been best friends. Kirsty really understood what I went through, stood up to me." Molly hadn't liked the vulnerability in Sherlock's eyes. It scared her to no end. "I came home, the perfect proposal in mind. I was going to have a moonlight picnic, and propose at midnight. She said the moonlight was most romantic. Only full moon though, nothing more, and nothing less." Sherlock smiled at the memory. "She wasn't here. I knew she had gone out with friends, and figured she had been running late. So did the rest of my household." Molly was scared for what the rest of the story was going to be.

"At midnight, I had Mycroft keep an eye on the children, while I went off to find her. Anna hadn't seen her, so we looked everywhere." Sherlock stopped for a long moment, trying to regain his composure. Molly needed to hear this, but he was having a hard time continuing.

"Did you ever find her?" She waited a moment.

"The following morning." Sherlock began, now sounding like he had a rather bad head cold. "I was still out, and I got a call from Lestrade. He was new to the force, and I was still looking." He went quiet. Tears thick in his voice, he said, "Lestrade had found her in the park. I ran as fast as I could, but, she had died hours before, and I was already to late." A tear trickled down his face, while tears had poured out of Molly's eyes.

"She was killed, by some man. He was just a mugger. A popular mugger." Sherlock chocked out. "Everyone knew his name, but not his face. Lestrade caught him, and was praised all around. Kirsty had been raped, beaten, and shot to death. Nobody heard the gunshot, because the gun had a silencer. I was devastated.

"After that, I had to come home, and tell my family. I had to tell Mycroft, and my parents. I had to tell Roger, Anna, and their families. But the hardest was walking up the doorsteps to Kirsty's parents home, and telling them that their daughter had been killed in a mugging. I was heartbroken to see them so devastated." Sherlock pinched the bridge of his nose, as tears fell more freely down his face for a moment. Molly's heart broke for him, but she didn't want him to totally lose it, and refrained from touching him. "I planned the funeral, everything. I wrote a speech, and I left our picture in the coffin. It was the worst funeral I'd ever been too. Even Mycroft was crying, and Mycroft doesn't cry." Sherlock said. "I was miserable. I couldn't even live here. I had to leave.

"Unfortunately, that meant the kids were mine. I had to take care of them." Sherlock took a shaky breath. "And, unfortunately, I became rather depressed. I was into drugs, cocaine, mostly." Molly could feel her eyes welling up harder. "And, I hated myself, so much for it." He sobbed once. Molly wanted to bad to reach out for him, but she knew he needed to get through this on his own.

"I had to give up my children for adoption. They couldn't live the way I had. I swore off love forever, but vowed to get my children back. I could never get clean enough, and by the time I was out of rehab, their parents refused to allow me to even see them." Sherlock was sobbing. Molly was silently crying. Her heart had shattered. After a long moment, Sherlock had stopped. She reached out, and stretched out his hand.

"Jonah, brings that back to me. You and Jonah fill that empty hole in my heart, one I never knew I had after Kirsty. Mrs. Hudson was a nanny of mine growing up, and Lestrade had found the body. They were the biggest supporters for me. You walked into my life, literally, if I can recall how we met, and that hole is being filled." Molly scooted closer, and snuggled against Sherlock. He held her to him. "The hole is still there, but it's not hurting as bad anymore. You've helped me." Sherlock held onto Molly tight. She was handed a tissue, and so she blew her nose. Sherlock did the same. "While we are here, I would like to visit Kirsty's grave. Mummy bought me flowers for the occasion, so I would like to put them on her grave. It would be wonderful if you would come."

"Sherlock, you need all the support you can get." Molly said. "I'd love too. And, if you had told John...I think he'd understand." Sherlock shook his head.

"While John is like a brother to me, there are some things that I'm not quite ready to admit to him just yet." Sherlock said. "It was hell trying to tell you." Molly snuggled deep into Sherlock's arms.

"Is that why you have Jonah call you Sherlock?"

"No, he does that himself." Sherlock said. "It would be okay for him to call me Dad." Sherlock said. "I'd be more than okay."

Nobody noticed the same little boy, sitting on the floor in his bedroom, crying in silent, heartbroken sobs for his adopted father.

"Daddy." He whispered towards Sherlock. "I love you."

**Can I just say, I about cried writing this. I had the idea in mind, because I knew it was one nobody had come up with yet, so I was keen on the idea. That's why I posted so many chapters about it. Thank you for your wonderful words, and support.**

**Also, I wrote a letter to Benedict Cumberbatch. I added a self-addressed envelope with it, and am hoping it'll come it soon. I addressed it on July 19, his birthday. I'll keep you posted on the letter.**


	9. The Questions

"Wait, I have some questions. Something doesn't add up with your story." Sherlock raised an eyebrow at Molly. "You told me a few days ago that you were inexperienced with kissing. But you had a relationship."

"Ah, that." Sherlock cleared his throat. "It was nineteen years ago. The first and only relationship of my life." Sherlock sighed. "And, I fell out of practice with normal relationship practices. Not that we were ever a normal couple, Kirsty and I." Molly snorted.

"Oh, and we are?" Sherlock smirked gently. Molly held his hand, stroking his long, bony, violinists fingers. She was curled up against him, reveling in his warmth.

"What about your kids? Have you seen them sense before you gave them away?"

"No. I was allowed very strict visits, and the last visit I was allowed was when...let's see...Callum was two."

"I'm so sorry." She whispered. He was quite upset. They sat there for a long while, in silence, expect the crackling and popping of the warm fire. "What got you on drugs?"

"I'm not exactly sure." Sherlock said. "I was the kid who'd go to parties, but I'd drink very little, and I refused every drug. Finally, I'd had enough. My mind was always stimulated, always craved more. When Kirsty was murdered, I was wrapped up in that, and my mind wasn't getting the usual stimulation. Drugs, I discovered, did that. For a while, I was a performance violin player, and that's how I got drug money. Long after I gave up Callum and Lily. My mindset was cases, and cases kept me clean. But, I caved, and was refusing cases for drugs." Sherlock said. "Rehab, from one of Mycroft's friends, and therapy from another was what got me through." Sherlock wrapped his arm around Molly's small frame, holding her closer.

"What started you being a detective, rather than say, a chemist?"

"I loved being a detective. I did everything I could to avenge the death of my Kirsty. Solving cases, I knew she would be proud of me." Molly looked up in his icy-blue eyes.

"I'm proud of you." Sherlock smiled.

"You've given me new reason's to fight crime. So has John." Sherlock leaned in, and kissed Molly gently. Molly smiled, then let out a yawn.

"Sorry, it's rather late."

"Let's go to be. That is...if you wouldn't mind sharing the bed." Sherlock said. "It's been years sense I've stayed in this room, and after telling you the story...alone would be rather difficult." Molly kissed his jaw.

"Of course." They got up, and went into their bed. Taking off her robe, she climbed in, and went to sleep. Sherlock followed suit, gently wrapping his arm around her, and spooning in close. He pulled the blankets up higher, and kissed her neck.

"Good night, Molly Hooper." He whispered, before he fell asleep.

The next morning, Sherlock found Jonah already awake. He grinned, and picked the little boy up.

"Good morning, Jonah!" Jonah smiled and hugged Sherlock.

"Good morning, Daddy!" He said, giggling. Sherlock looked surprised momentarily, but grinned wider.

"All right, son, go get dressed, and we'll go down for breakfast." Jonah padded off to get his clothes on. "Call if you need any assistance." Molly came out, and kissed Sherlock good morning. He smiled.

"Good morning, dear." She said. He wrapped his arms around her waist.

"Good morning, my love." He whispered against her mouth, before leaning in for a kiss. They kissed for a long time, until-

"EWWWW!" Jonah shouted. Sherlock broke apart from Molly, and chased Jonah around the sitting room. Molly had fallen to the couch from laughter. Sherlock caught Jonah, who laughed and giggled, and tickled the boy ruthlessly. Jonah got up after Sherlock's assault, and ran into the bathroom. The adults laughed, before getting changed, and heading off to the dining room for breakfast. Mr. Holmes, Lucinda, Archie, Mycroft, and Mrs. Holmes were already there.

"Good morning." Molly said. She was greeted with a mumbled "Morning" from everyone. She sat next to Mycroft. Sherlock slipped into the chair beside her, and watched Jonah get into his chair, before getting him breakfast, then himself. Roger and Sally came downstairs next, soon followed by Anna.

"Hey, Sherlock, are you going to visit Kirsty while your still here?" Roger asked. Sherlock nodded.

"Molly and I are heading up there later today." Sherlock hadn't decided yet if he wanted to take Jonah or not.

"Anna and I were planning on going after breakfast. Would you mind keeping an eye on Sally for me?"

"I'll do it." Archie said. "I promised Jonah we'd go out back and play in the snow later."

"Thank you, Archie." Roger said. "That's very kind of you. John and Mary were up next.

"Morning John." Sherlock said.

"Morning, Sherlock. Morning Molly." She smiled in greeting.

"Where's Lucy?" Molly asked. Archie looked up.

"She's in the shower, she'll be down soon." John said. Mary sat next to Jonah.

"Hey, honey."

"Hi, Mary." He said shyly. She rumpled his curly black hair. He went back to his toast. Sherlock smiled and sipped his tea. His father looked unusually cocky. Come to think of it, Mycroft looked more relaxed, less uptight than usual, although he moved like everything was sore. Sherlock was grinning behind his newspaper.

"What's so amusing, brother?"

"Oh, just...observing." Sherlock scanned the paper, catching the date. His grin disappeared, and he put the newspaper down.

"You okay?" John asked.

"Fine. Excuse me." Sherlock said, getting up. Molly looked at the newspaper, but didn't understand what would have make him leave. Roger and Anna looked grim, and Mycroft forlorn.

"What's going on?" Lucinda asked.

"It's going to be a hard day for Sherlock." Mycroft said. Molly wondered if it had anything to do with the story he told her last night.

"Molly, could I speak to you in private?" Roger asked. Molly nodded, and stood up. They went into the den, where Roger knew they wouldn't be heard.

"What is it Roger?"

"Did Sherlock tell you anything? About Kirsty?"

"Yeah. The whole story. Last night." Roger took a deep breath. "What's going on, Roger?"

"Today is Kirsty's birthday."

A couple of hours after Roger and Anna had come back, coated in snow, and looking mournful, Sherlock and Molly headed out, taking Jonah with them. Sherlock had discovered that they were over heard, when he caught Jonah looking at the picture, and whispering, "You're my brother."

Sherlock drove them up to the cemetery, and through the one, car roads. They went into the back part, and stopped. A couple, both around Sherlock's parents age, were waiting at the grave stones. Sherlock parked the Range Rover behind them, and they all got out, Sherlock helping Jonah out, and they approached.

"Mr. and Mrs. Jonas." Sherlock said. The couple turned and looked at Sherlock.

"Sherlock?" Mrs. Jonas hugged him tight. "Oh, Sherlock." She squeezed him. Mr. Jonas also hugged Sherlock.

"How are Callum and Lily?"

"They are well off, son." Mr. Jonas said. "They are still being fed the lies that you are a drug-addicted loser."

"I'd like you to meet my girlfriend, Doctor Molly Hooper, and my son Jonas. Molly, these are Kirsty's parents." Sherlock said. She shook hands with them. It still amazed Sherlock that they had understood everything. They knew how hard he tried to stay clean for his children.

"Wonderful to meet you." Mrs. Jonas said. "Sherlock, Jonah looks nothing like you."

"I'm adopted." Jonah said rather bluntly.

"Well, that's good." She said. "Because I was concerned he kidnapped you!" Jonah giggled. Sherlock smiled, and took the roses he had to lay them on the nearby gravestone.

"Can you believe that it's been nineteen years?" Mr. Jonas asked.

"No." Sherlock said. "No, I can't."

"Me either." Mr. Jonas said. They stood there in silence for a moment. "How have you been?" Sherlock looked at Mr. Jonas.

"I've been...better. Clean, if you can believe it." Sherlock said. "Molly's built up that...hope, again." Sherlock nodded once, as if it helped finalize the point. Mr. Jonas nodded.

"Callum looks so much like Kirsty, it hurts." Sherlock nodded; Callum had always looked like his mother, even at birth. "Lily, on the other hand, is the spitting image of you." Mr. Jonas gave him a picture. Callum had light brown hair, and a big grin. His face was tanned, and his teeth straight, and white. Like Kirsty. Lily's teeth were shining with her braces, and her long hair was wavy. Her body was thin, and her skin pale. Sherlock had braces once, to realign his jaw.

"Why does Lily have braces?"

"She needed a jaw alignment. Like her father before her." Mr. Jonas owned the orthodontics office Sherlock and Mycroft were sent to. "How's Mycroft doing?"

"He's taken over Father's old job, but more. He _is_ the British government." Mr. Jonas laughed.

"Like he always said he'd be." Sherlock nodded. Jonah came over to them, and hugged Sherlock's leg.

"I'll let you folks have your moment. We have to get going. Mark and his wife want us over for lunch." Mark was Kirsty's twin brother.

"How is he?"

"Married, busy. Actually, I believe he works for Mycroft."

"Doesn't surprise me, half of England does." Sherlock muttered. Mr. Jonas laughed.

"Well, we better get going." They left with goodbyes, and hugs. Molly looked at the headstone. She was buried right next to two others, who had died not long ago.

"Her grandparents." Sherlock said. "They were like grandparents to me." Jonas looked at the grave for a long moment. He was still clinging to Sherlock's leg. Suddenly, he approached the grave, and knelt down in front of it.

"You know, I know Sherlock." He said. Tears were forming in Sherlock's eyes. "And you were lucky. I'm lucky. He's a great dad." Tears poured down both Molly and Sherlock's faces. "I wish we could have met you. You seem nice. Pretty." Molly leaned against Sherlock. "I think they all miss you, they all seemed sad. I can do that trick Sherlock does, where he figures people out without meeting them. And, they look like someone should be here." Jonah stood, and walked back towards them. Sherlock approached the grave, stood there for a moment. He turned to Molly.

"Would you mind if I had a moment of privacy?" Molly and Jonah went to get back into the Range Rover, and Sherlock waited by the gravestone. He crouched down, and touched it.

"Happy birthday, love." He said. "Molly...she's amazing. I don't know if I could have survived what I did without her. And Lestrade. John too." Sherlock smiled. "I miss Callum and Lily. They're legal adults now, can you imagine?" He laughed once. "Callum was so hyper as a two year old, and Lily was quiet and thoughtful. They look exactly like we did at their age, Kirsty. It's...insane, to think they grrew up without either of us." Sherlock laughed again. "Mycroft got Father's job. He's retired now, and Mycroft runs the British governement. Archie's a teenager now. Roger and Anna got married, and have a six year old daughter named Sally. Jonah is mine. He's adopted, and amazing." Sherlock took a shaky breath. "He fills a portion of that hole that was left when you died, and when I gave Callum and Lily away. I fight crime, to prevent things like this from happening again. If this hadn't happened, I might not have met John, or Molly. John would still be recovering from Afghanistan, and Molly would still be alone with Toby, her cat. I do love her. You will always be everything to me, but you and I made a promise that we would do our best to move on, so that we weren't living life in depression." He stood. "Thank you, for everything you gave to me, and thank you, for everything you did for me." That was Sherlock's customary good bye for her. Three months ago, he'd come to visit her on her birthday. And he always visited on Callum and Lily's birthday's.

Sherlock wiped away the tears, and whispered, "Goodbye, for now." He smiled once at the gravestone, and turned back to the Range Rover to head home.

Later that night, as they got into bed, Molly remembered an event from earlier that morning. She knew it might just cheer Sherlock up. "Sherlock, what was so amusing at breakfast this morning?" Sherlock laughed.

"Mycroft and my father. Father was arrogant, and Mycroft relaxed. They had sex last night." Molly shuddered.

"All right, that was a bit too much information. But, why is that so amusing?"

"Because." Sherlock said, climbing into bed. "They're bedrooms are next door to one another."

Molly didn't know whether to laugh, or to be disturbed.

**All right guys. I was thinking. I want to know if you guys would like to see Sherlock's past. I was thinking of ways to come up with this storyline, and what would happen. If you want to see it, let me know, and I'll post it when I've got it. I think it'll start the same time Roger is put in Sherlock's school. **

**Thank you so much for the amazing reviews and wonderful comments. This is some of my best work, and I'm very proud of it. It makes me glad knowing that the constant writing for the past two days has really paid off.**


	10. The Curiosity

Several days later, life was back to normal. Molly was working in the mortuary, John was working at Barts, and Sherlock was taking cases. On days that Sherlock wasn't too busy, he made sure to sit with Jonah, and teach him the basics. Jonah had never been to a school, so they had a lot of things to teach Jonah. Sherlock taught him the alphabet, and how to write it. He taught Jonah how to write out the names of the people he knew, and how to spell them. Sherlock taught Jonah basic math and science skills. He soon realized that Jonah had quite the brain, and had advanced rapidly. Sherlock decided he needed to find a private school for Jonah, where he knew Jonah would get the best education.

He applied Jonah into the Catholic school closest to their home. Sherlock himself had grown up Catholic, although he didn't really practice it now. He considered himself agnostic, rather than any one religion. He had seen the work of the devil. Jonah, he had decided, was the work of God.

One day, Jonah looked up at Sherlock and said, "Daddy, I want to be just like you. Only, I don't want to sound mean when I deduce people." Jonah had picked up the skill quickly. Molly was impressed. John was annoyed. He didn't need two of them. Like today...

He'd lost a patient today. John rarely lost patients, and when he did, it hit him hard. John was a good doctor, and he knew it. John made it his goal in life to keep as many people as possible from dying. But the surgery they had performed went well, but the cancer was too much. John was not in a happy mood. It always made him sad.

"John, how come your sad?" Jonah always noticed the emotions. He was concerned. Sherlock would bluntly tell him "Oh, you lost a patient today." But Jonah would take the time to see if he was okay.

"A patient of mine died today." Jonah looked sad.

"I'm sorry." He said. Jonah was quiet for a moment. "How did he die?"

"He was very sick." John wasn't sure how you explained the concept of cancer to a six year old.

"That's too bad." Jonah said. After a silent moment, he said. "At least he doesn't hurt anymore. Like Mummy. She isn't afraid anymore." John didn't know what to say to that. Jonah smiled.

"You should talk to Mary. You always are happy after talking to her." John blushed. Sherlock, who had chosen that moment to come in, smirked.

"Bad day, John?"

"We're not talking about it." John snapped, opening his laptop, and booting it up. Jonah was playing with his Lego set. He was building a tall tower. Sherlock thought it looked like an office building.

"John, did you lose a patient today?" Sherlock asked quietly. Sherlock lost victims in his cases. It didn't sting as badly, except the fact that he wasn't avenging Kirsty. That was harder to accept than losing someone. Sherlock excepted that it happened. John had a harder time, because he saw so much death in war. Sherlock understood that.

"Yes, Sherlock, I did." He said rather shortly. Jonah looked up at Sherlock.

"He was very sick."

"Cancer?"

"What else?" John grumbled.

"Cancer?" Sherlock looked at Jonah, and crouched down next to him.

"Cancer is an illness that severely affects the body. It comes in all different ways." Jonah nodded. "My father has had cancer."

"Really? He doesn't seem sick."

"Sometimes, people live. But he isn't the same. He used to chase children around, play with them. But he's lost his playfulness because it has wiped him of some of his energy." Jonah nodded. John was very upset.

"Is that what makes you sad, John?" Jonah asked. John really didn't need this right now. He didn't answer. It's not that he didn't like the boy. It was the questions he really didn't want.

"No, it's more..." Sherlock looked at John in surprise. "John, I'm so sorry." John's own father had died of cancer. His mother had, fortunately, died in her sleep from her heart disease. She'd had it for a long time.

"Shove off, Sherlock." He left the room, and went into his bedroom. After half an hour, Jonah came in after knocking.

"John?" He said in a small voice. "I didn't mean to make you sad. I'm sorry." He went over to the bed, where John was laying.

"It's all right, Jonah." He sat up, and helped Jonah onto the bed. "It's hard. We hoped he would live. He was supposed to. We did the surgery that was supposed to help him live." Jonah looked sad.

"Now he's in heaven, with Mummy." John put Jonah in his lap, and hugged him. "Now somebody can make sure she's safe for me." John liked Jonah's innocent thinking. It was pure, and full of hope, rather than sadness. John squeezed the boy in his arms. "I still think you should call Mary."

"Why?"

"She makes you happy." Jonah said. "You are always smiling and laughing when you talk to her." John blushed. "Do you love her?" John's smile softened.

"With all my heart." He said. Jonah liked that answer.

A few nights later, Sherlock came home from a rather lengthy date with Molly, and found Jonah still awake.

"I couldn't sleep, Daddy." Sherlock scooped the boy up, and put him in his bed. Sherlock changed his clothes, and laid down. "Where were you?"

"I was out with Molly." Jonah noticed the smile, the twinkle in his eyes. He noticed the difference in his posture (he looked taller) and the way Sherlock was relaxed, and happy.

"Daddy?" Sherlock looked at his son. "Do you love Molly?" Sherlock wasn't sure of that answer. Did he love her? They had only been together for two weeks. Sherlock wasn't sure.

"I don't know. My heart says yes, but my brain tells me that I'm not sure." Sherlock was confused.

"Did she kiss you?" Sherlock blushed a light pink color, and looked away rather bashfully.

"Yes." Sherlock said. "She did. Why do you ask?" He still sounded rather bashful.

"You look happier when she kisses you." Jonah said. "I like it when you're happy."

"Well, that's a good thing, isn't it?. Good night son." Jonah snuggled in close to his father.

"Good night, Daddy."

Outside the door, clad in nothing but boxers and a grin, John was listening to everything.

He knew, with Sherlock, something had finally clicked.


	11. The Day

The day had come for Sherlock to send Jonah off to his first day of school. He was smart, and well on his way to outshining his class. The school had a three week winter break, and Sherlock had adopted Jonah three weeks before school let out. John convinced Sherlock that it was a bad time for the abused boy to start. Too many questions Sherlock had registered him the day prior. They had been surprised that the highly offensive, sneering, insulting detective had a son. The boy was all smiles when the receptionist talked to him. Sherlock had signed him up, and now, he was starting.

"What if nobody likes me?"

"How could they not like you?" Molly asked. Jonah had really taken a liking to Molly. Sherlock was rather pleased with that little fact. His girlfriend and adoptive son were going to make a great family. Jonah blushed.

"All right." She kissed his cheek. Sherlock dropped a kiss on Jonah's forehead, and put the boy on the ground, so he could go join his teacher. They lined up, each little boy and girl looking equally nervous. One boy walked in, all strut, no shame. His father looked equally arrogant. Sherlock ignored him. Jonah turned and waved. His teacher came outside to get the students, and Sherlock waved back, before the boy went into the building.

"There he goes." Molly said. They smiled, and walked away, holding hands.

Neither one saw the photographer across the street.

"I love school!" Jonah said when John came home with the boy. Sherlock laughed and picked Jonah up.

"I guess that's a good thing." Sherlock said. "What happened?"

"I have a nice teacher, and she gave us our desks. Then, she had us tell her about our winter breaks.".Sherlock was concerned about his answer.

"What did you say?"

"I told her my Daddy took me to see my grandparents and uncle, and that you had helped me catch up. And I said we were hanging out with your girlfriend a lot, and that John was fun."

"That's good." Sherlock wasn't sure how the school would react if Jonah had told them the rescue part. "What else?"

"A kid called you a freak. But I laughed and told him he was silly." Jonah was quiet for a minute. "Daddy, what does gay mean?" Sherlock froze. John looked surprised.

"Why?"

"He said you were that, too."

"Don't listen to him." Sherlock said. "Because it's untrue." Sherlock had no idea how to explain what gay meant to a six year old boy, and also avoiding question on sex, which would never be avoided. Sherlock was too...exact on his explanations.

Fortunately, Jonah was pleased with that answer, and promptly opened his backpack. "My teacher wants you to sign this. She says it's about the rules." Jonah's large, rather messy handwriting was already across the page. "I already signed it." Sherlock put on his reading glasses, which he rarely needed, and looked over the paper.

_All right, let's see. My child will follow directions...blah blah blah, disciplinary actions...blah blah blah may not have mobile phones in class...he's six, why would a six year old have a mobile in the first place? _Sherlock got the gist of it, and scrawled his signature across the correct line. Sherlock new the rules. He wasn't a complete moron. Jonah watched him write. John was at his computer, looking at something intently. John was going to look at housing with Mary. Sherlock had invited Molly over for a few hours. They were going to enjoy dinner with Jonah, but as soon as Jonah was in bed, Sherlock was going to have a romantic picnic desert in the living room. Molly came in at five, they had dinner, and sent Jonah off to bed by eight, and Sherlock was curled up with Molly on the floor of the living room, laughing and eating dessert. Sherlock laughed when Molly leaned in to kiss him, and got frosting from her cake on her shirt. She wiped it off with her finger, and touched the end of his nose. John and Mary chose that moment to go in. John looked at them in surprise.

"Oh, er...are we interrupting something?"

"Nothing at all." Sherlock's face went pink, and he wiped the frosting off the end of his nose.

"We are, aren't we?" John asked.

"No, don't worry about it." Molly said. They sat up. "Did you find what you were looking for?"

"Actually, we did." John handed them a packet. "It's a small cottage, half an hour away." Sherlock thought it was a good place. The inside had clearly been remodeled to a modern look, and the outside was in excellent condition. It had four bedrooms, and was a relatively cheap price.

"This isn't that bad." Molly said.

"It's really nice." Molly said. "You going for it?"

"Absolutely." Mary said. "It's a great neighborhood, and it's actually closer to Jonah's school. If you needed us too, we could pick him up. And, there's a back yard, and...it's great." Sherlock looked a little upset at the idea that he was already loosing John. He knew it would happen one day, but he wasn't expecting it so fast. At least they were close.

"When's the wedding?"

"July." John said. "Actually, Sherlock, I was wondering if I could talk to you about that for a second." Sherlock looked a tad surprised.

"Oh. Of course, John." He stood up, and the went into the kitchen. John closed the door, and looked at Sherlock.

"I want you to be my best man." Sherlock looked genuinely surprised. John felt a bit smug; it wasn't often that one could surprise Sherlock Holmes.

"John, I'm flattered. Thank you."

"Wait, you'll do it?" John looked surprised. "You do realize that requires you to make a best man speech."

"Of course. I was Mycroft's best man, I'm not completely inept at the whole wedding scene. I almost got married once." Sherlock said.

"Wait, really?"

"Yes." Sherlock still wore the ring around his neck, on a long, thin chain. "It was nearly twenty years ago." Sherlock noticed John's surprise.

"What happened?"

"She was murdered." John looked shocked, then upset.

"I'm so sorry." Sherlock nodded.

"It's all right. I've moved on." Sherlock had. Of course, he never would forget Kirsty, but he had moved on in his life, where he was mostly healed. There was the loss of his children. "I have children, too." John gaped at him for a second.

"Well, that explains why you're so good with Jonah." Sherlock smirked.

"John, I gave them up for adoption after my girlfriend was killed." John blushed. "It's fine, I get what you mean."

"Do you know where they are?"

"What kind of father would I be if I didn't know the location of my own children?" Sherlock said. "Of course I do."

"Well, that's good." John and Sherlock stood in an uncomfortable silence. Finally, they heard a scream.

"And, Molly's the Maid of Honor." John said. "Looks like you'll be walking down the aisle with Molly." Sherlock caught the double meaning, but deduced that John hadn't meant it like that.

But the question was...did Sherlock want that?


	12. The Bullying

Sherlock was outside school, waiting for the children to be released. He was bundled up in his thick coat, and scarf. Molly was standing next to him, holding his hand, and waiting.

"Sherlock, I'm freezing." She had been unwell that day, and was looking a bit pale. Sherlock pulled her to his arms, and wrapped his open coat around her. She leaned into his warm body. Despite his too-thin appearance, his body temperature ran hotter than the rest of the human population.

"Molly, you've got a fever." Sherlock said. She snuggled deeper into his coat. Sherlock held her tighter. At 3:20, students poured from the doors of the school building, running towards older siblings, parents, or both. Sherlock looked around for Jonah.

"We'll take you home, so John can look you over for me." She nodded against his chest. Children ran, saying goodbye to friends and teachers as they ran. Jonah came out, alone, and hanging his head. He found Sherlock, and silently walked towards Sherlock. They went, hailed a cab, and went back to 221B Baker Street, watching London pass by in a flurry of colors. Before they got to the flat, Sherlock turned to Jonah. "How was school?"

"Fine." He didn't sound like it was fine. Sherlock and Molly looked concerned.

"What is it?"

"Nothing." He said.

"Son, something is bothering you. Do you not like your teacher?"

"No, I do."

"Is it the lunch I made you? Was it bad?"

"No, I liked it."

"Just a bad day?"

"Dad, every day seems like a bad day." Jonah said, sounding like a teenager instead of a six year old. Sherlock looked surprised.

"How so? Not enough crayons?" Sherlock joked. Jonah shot a dirty look at Sherlock, who looked at his son in surprise.

"Jonah, just tell me." Sherlock had sat in the middle between Molly and Jonah. The cab had pulled to the curb. Sherlock was getting the money out.

"I hate school!" Jonah shouted, and ran. Sherlock threw the notes at the cabbie, and ran after his son. Molly followed.

"Jonah!" Sherlock shouted. "Come here." They ran up the stairs, and into the flat, where Jonah sat, crying. Mary, John, and Lucy looked at him in surprise.

"Jonah, honey, what's wrong?" Molly asked.

"I hate school. People are mean to me, they don't talk to me. I don't even have friends." Jonah sobbed. "I want to stay home."

"Look, son." Sherlock said. "I didn't have friends either."

"Yeah, but I didn't do anything wrong. You deduce people, and accidently make them mad."

"Actually...I didn't talk to them. I didn't know how to." Sherlock said. "They thought that I believed myself to be 'too good' for them." Jonah was still sobbing.

"But there's a mean boy, Rich, who says that I'm unloved because my real mommy and daddy didn't want me." Jonah said, looking heartbroken. "But that's not true...is it?" He asked in a small voice. "I know Mummy loved me...but I don't know about Dad."

"Son, listen to me. Even if you're real parents didn't want you, I do." Sherlock said. "I love you, no matter what. You aren't unloved. I love you."

"Me too." Molly said. John and Mary watched. Lucy knelt down and looked at Jonah.

"Look, I have a lot of bullying too, because I'm adopted." She said. "And that's what a lot of people say. They think that I'm unwanted and unloved because my parents aren't my blood family. But you know how I get them to be quiet?" Jonah shook his head. "I say 'My Mum picked me, but your mum got stuck with you.'" Lucy pulled Jonah into her arms. "You aren't unloved. Sherlock adopted you because he cared about you. He wanted you to have a nice, safe home. My Mum wanted me to have a family. She wanted a daughter. She picked me."

"Really?" Jonah asked, looking between her and Sherlock.

"Yes. And I gave up my own children for adoption so they could have a better life. People do things so that others can be happy. And you and I are both happy, because I adopted you. Don't let the bullies get into your way. You know we will always, always love you." Jonah ran into Sherlock's arms, and held on tight. He snuggled into Sherlock's warm body.

"I love you too." He whispered, so only Sherlock could hear. Sherlock scooped Jonah up, and held him in his arms.

"John, would you mind looking over Molly for me, she seems to be running a fever." John nodded, and found his doctor's bag, and setting Molly down on the couch. Sherlock sat in his chair, and plopped Jonah on his lap. Lucy sat in John's chair. Sherlock took Jonah's backpack off him, and found his folder.

"Oh, it looks like their having a pizza party for the January birthdays." Sherlock said. "They would like parental volunteers."

"Will you come to school, Daddy?" Jonah asked. Sherlock really didn't want to, but Jonah looked so hopeful, and Sherlock didn't really want Jonah to be hurt even more.

"I'll do my best. If I get a case, however, you have to promise me you won't be mad because work was a problem."

"Okay." Jonah said. "When is it?"

"This Friday." Sherlock said, pulling out his reading glasses, and writing his name on the paper, checking the "maybe" box.

"Thank you, Daddy." Jonah said, kissing Sherlock's cheek, and hugging him. Sherlock wrapped his arms around the tiny body of his son, and gently hugged him. Jonah let go, and jumped down. He went off to play with his toys.

"Well, Molly, looks like you caught the flu." John said. "I'd say go home, get some sleep, fluids, and call off work for tomorrow." She nodded, then let out a jaw breaking yawn.

"I'll get her home, Sherlock. It's on my way home anyway."

"Thank you, Mary." Sherlock said, standing up to kiss Molly goodbye. She hugged him tightly, and they left. John looked at Sherlock in amazement.

"I can't believe _you_ are in a relationship. You of all people."

"Why? I've been in one before, John, it's not like it's new to me."

"No, but...it's not something I ever knew you to do." John said. "I didn't know you had kids until the other day."

"I didn't know the right time to tell you. And, after I told Molly the story, I decided it was as good of a time as any to clue you in."

"There's a whole story?"

"A long and painful one that I am not quite willing to repeat." Sherlock said, rubbing his eyes. He was tired, and his eyes were itchy and sore from the lack of sleep. He had just completed a three day case, and was in desperate need of sleep.

"Go to bed. I'll keep an eye on Jonah."

"Are you sure?"

"Absolutely." Sherlock went to bed.

Soon enough, after another two day case, it was Friday. Sherlock had received a notice that Sherlock was to come to the school at one, and would last the rest of the school day. Because they often finished a few minutes early, Sherlock was welcome to take his son home afterwords.

At 11:30, Sherlock got a phone call from Lestrade. It was a tedious case, and he turned it down.

"You're turning down a chance to cuss out Anderson _and_ Donovan?"

"I have to be at Jonah's school today, Detective Inspector, I really don't want to disappoint him. He's already got a bully, I can't be the cause of it worsening."

"All right. I'll see what I can do."

"Thank you." Sherlock hung up his mobile, and went to put on clothes acceptable for a children's party. Sherlock left, and showed up five minutes early. He signed in, and went down the classroom five, where the room was empty. Sherlock went in the doorway, and knocked on the open door.

"Oh, hello." The teacher said. "I'm Mrs. Sheldon."

"I'm Sherlock Holmes, Jonah's son."

"Oh, yes, Mr. Holmes." They shook hands.

"Sherlock, please." He replied, looking around. It was a typical classroom, the alphabet around the wall, desks with name tags, their names clearly printed. On a bulletin board, there were drawings and assignments that hung on the wall. Jonah had a lot of work posted. Sherlock noticed his son drew surprisingly well for a six year old. "May I ask how Jonah is adapting to school?"

"He seems to be doing well academically. Socially, he's having quite a lot of trouble."

"We were working with him to catch him up for the year." Sherlock said. "He was adopted before you went on Christmas holiday."

"Ahh, all right." Mrs. Sheldon said. "Who lives at home?"

"My colleague and best friend Doctor John Watson, and my landlady, Mrs. Hudson."

"That might be part of Jonah's problem." Mrs. Sheldon said. "He talks to adults all day long. Do you have any young cousins."

"One, but he lives almost three hours away. And there are no other families in our building. Or down the whole street, for that matter."

"That's too bad." Mrs. Sheldon said. Sherlock had deduced that she was 26, her hair was it's natural color, she had been married for three years, and she was pregnant. "You said you live with your colleague. Is he the blogger?"

"Yes."

"Okay, cool. Is he really getting married, or is he getting rid of rumors?"

"I'm the best man, I would rather hope I wasn't asked to stand up at a fake wedding." Sherlock said. Several other parents were coming in. Mrs. Sheldon laughed.

"Right, no, that makes sense." Parents greeted one another, so Mrs. Sheldon asked, "Jonah tells me you have a rather attractive girlfriend." Sherlock blushed. "We were hopping the famous Molly could attend today."

"She's ill with the flu. Otherwise I'd have persuaded my way into letting her boss come with me." Mrs. Sheldon laughed.

"I get that. My husband's boss is the same way." A woman approached.

"You must be new." She said. Sherlock looked at her. "I'm Doris, Damian's mother." Sherlock didn't know who Damian was. "Who's father are you?"

"Jonah Holmes."

"Oh, the new boy! He's the sweetest thing." She said. Mrs. Sheldon smiled, and moved on. "Where's his mother?" Before Sherlock could respond, he could hear excited children coming through the halls. He craned his neck, and found a sad little Jonah look up. Jonah's entire face lit up, and he grinned. Running through the classroom, he went straight to Sherlock, who had crouched down waiting for Jonah's hug. The boy jumped into Sherlock's arms.

"I missed you last night."

"I know, I'm so sorry Jonah. I had to finish the case so I could be here today." Sherlock said, pressing a kiss to Jonah's curly black hair.

"Come on, I want to show you my desk." Jonah dragged his father to the right one, and he showed him. "Look, John would be happy, it's nice and clean." Sherlock peered inside, and found that it was very neat. He smirked, and rumpled the boy's hair.

"Attention boys and girls. We are ready for you to get your food now." They lined up. Sherlock passed napkins out to each desk. _Dull, boring, tedious._ But there really was nothing more for him to do. Sherlock also passed out cups. Derick Crawford's mother was pouring juice for each child. Sherlock wasn't really needed, they'd had a surplus of parents to join, so he was told to enjoy himself. Jonah sat down, and silently ate. Sherlock crouched down in front of Jonah's desk.

"How's Molly?" Jonah asked.

"She's loads better, but still quite ill. She should be all right in a day or two."

"Okay." He continued to eat alone. When he stood up to throw his trash away, a tall, rather intimidating boy, stuck his foot into the aisle-way. Jonah tripped, and his paper plate, napkin, and empty cup went flying. He scrambled up to pick everything up, while everyone laughed. Jonah's face was dark red. Sherlock went to defend his son, but Doris stopped him.

"I want to see Jonah fight for himself." Damian, her son, looked concerned. Mrs. Sheldon waited, making sure it wasn't going to get violent.

"Hey, freak." The boy stood up.

"What do you want, Blake?" Jonah asked.

"Where's you're fake Dad? I don't see him."

"He's right behind you." Blake didn't move.

"I think you're lying. He's not here, because he doesn't love you, nobody does. That's why you were adopted." Jonah's hands were shaking. The student's and parents had gone silent. Mrs. Sheldon was trying to get through, but nobody would move out of the way to allow her through the crowd of people. "And where's your Mummy?"

"She's dead." Jonah said, rather bluntly. An embarrassed silence filled the room. Sherlock tensed, looking pained, and worried.

"She probably killed herself to get away from _you_." That boy... Sherlock clenched his fists. He was furious. "And your dad probably ran away from you, cause you're such a freak."

"Yeah, well guess what, Blake." Jonah spat out the other boy's name with contempt. "My Dad picked me to be his son. _Your_ dad got stuck with you." Damian looked impressed. Blake was furious.

"You take that back."

"No, because I'm tired of being picked on. You make me seem like I'm a freak because my dad does things different than other people." Sherlock took note that Jonah sounded like a teenager, not a little kid. "I'm tired of you pushing everyone around. It's not fair. You aren't better than anyone, you're just a bully." Jonah was shaking. "And I'm done with you." Jonah walked of, his heart pounding, body shaking. Sherlock deduced quickly the adrenaline rush going through Jonah's system. Sherlock, who hadn't been able to stand up to his own bullies, looked at his son with pride, and respect.

When Jonah looked up, he saw that his father was proud of him. He grinned, and ran as fast as he could towards Sherlock. He jumped into the detective's long, muscular arms, and clung to him. Sherlock held him tight. He whispered, "I am so proud of you."

"Because I said mean things?"

"No, because you stood up for yourself. I couldn't stand up for myself." Damian stood up.

"I agree with Jonah." He said. "You're a meanie, and I don't like you." Now _that_ was a six year old. "You tooked all my crayons, and you spitted on me."

"When was that?" Mrs. Sheldon asked.

"Yesterday." Damian said. "At lunch." Mrs. Sheldon's TA (Sherlock didn't know her name) took Blake to the office. The children cheered. Sherlock set Jonah down. Damian ran up to him and gave him a hug.

"I didn't know how mean they really were. I'm sorry."

"It's okay." Jonah said. Sherlock smiled. A girl walked up to Jonah shyly.

"I thought what you did looked scary."

"It was." Unfortunately, the next thing he said was more than true, and it made Sherlock die inside, "I've been through scarier."

"Well, at least you stood up to Blake." Damian said. "Nobody ever does that. Last year, he used to steal my lunch money." Sherlock nearly rolled his eyes. Stereotypical bullying moment much?

"Good for you, Jonah, for standing up for yourself." Mrs. Sheldon said, smiling. Jonah grinned. "Not that I like that you insulted Blake, but he's been bullying kids long enough that what you said doesn't really matter in this case." Sherlock was relieved. He really didn't want Jonah in trouble.

"Do you mind if I take him now?"

"Absolutely." Sherlock had Jonah get his things, and he signed him out in the office. Sherlock and Jonah ran to catch a cab, then headed to Baker Street.

"I can't _wait_ to tell Lucy that her joke really worked." Jonah said. They ran in, to find John looking through a catalog. Sherlock could smell a distinct perfume in the air. Two, if you counted Mrs. Hudsons.

"When did Mary leave?"

"About ten minutes ago to get Lucy. Why are you two home so early?" John looked confused.

"I was allowed to bring him home early." Sherlock said. Footsteps pounded up the stairs. It was Lestrade.

"All right, your back. _Now _can you come?"

"What do you mean?" Jonah asked.

"Sherlock...did you turn down a case for your son?" John asked. Sherlock ignored John, and turned to Lestrade.

"Depends, what is it."

"Murder in Oxford. College student found dead in his dorm."

"Did you get the ballistics report?"

"Not yet, no." Sherlock pulled his phone from his jacket, and dialed the mortuary. "This is Sherlock Holmes, I need to speak to whoever is on duty right now."

"Molly Hooper isn't in." They receptionist said, in a snotty tone.

"I'm well aware of my girlfriend's wereabouts, now patch me through." Sherlock snapped back. After a moments silence, Mike Stamford picked up. "Mike, I want the ballistics report on the college kid."

"The Oxford boy? We didn't do it, but I can call a guy."

"Thank you." Sherlock hung up, and sat down. Lestrade joined him.

"What is it?"

"Mike's calling the place that did the autopsy." Sherlock said. "No thanks to their idiot secretary." Jonah was coloring in a coloring book, humming quietly as he did so. Sherlock found he was rather soothed by the gentle humming noises that Jonah made.

Within ten minutes, Mike called again. "The kid died of drugs."

"Thank you, Mike." Sherlock hung up. "It was a drug overdose." Lestrade looked at him.

"You sure?"

"Mike doesn't lie, does he?"

"...Fair point." Lestrade said. "All right, well, I better be off." Lestrade left.

After Sherlock had tucked Jonah into bed, he went into the living room, and pulled out his phone. He flicked through the contacts list, and found Roger's name. Touching the name on the screen, he hit "call" then pressed the phone to his ear.

"Sherlock?" Usually, they emailed or texted.

"Roger. You know how it was either you, Anna, or Kirsty that stood up for me in school?"

"Yeah, of course I do."

"It looks like Jonah has some of your willpower. You'll never believe what happened." Sherlock said, grinning.

John, who was typing up a blog, smiled.


	13. The News

The next morning, Sherlock clambered out of bed, showered, and went to check for any cases, like his normal routine. However, today was completely different. He had five emails from five different people who usually didn't email him; Mycroft, Father, Lestrade, Anderson, and Molly. Sherlock opened all of them, and found that they all read the same basic message: Turn on the news, and read the paper. He immediately jumped up, and grabbed the remote. The weather was playing. So, what's so interesting about the weather?

John came into the room, in nothing but a bath robe, and clutching the newspaper, when suddenly, something on the television grabbed his attention.

"Sherlock Holmes was spotted yesterday outside his home at 221B Baker Street Thursday afternoon, chasing after a small boy. Sources say his name is Jonah, and apparently, he's the detective's son." Suddenly, Lestrade was on the screen. The showing was all live.

"Yeah, it's Sherlock's son. So what, he's got a kid. You lot act like he's unable to be a father or something." The camera went back to the news reporter. There was a picture of the two of them, running into Baker Street the day Jonah came clean about the bullying. Luckily it was blurry, and you couldn't really see Sherlock's face, let alone Jonah's.

"But, according to reliable sources, Sherlock Holmes is a passed drug abuser. He also claims himself to be a high functioning sociopath."

"Yes, he has. That doesn't mean it's with everyone." Mycroft said. "I don't believe he is, but who am I to tell my brother what he can and can't be." Sherlock was grateful for his brother's defense. If there was anything the two agreed on, it was the protection of one another. They may fight, but their still brothers.

"According to anonymous sources, he's been known to be rude, and harsh, whether it was intentional or not."

"We're here live, just outside their flat, where fans have gathered to get a glimpse." John groaned.

"I'm not a fan." Mary said. "I'm Doctor John Watson's fiance, and I'm trying to get inside." Mary said, sounding irritated. "Sherlock's life isn't my business. He's a decent father, he takes care of that boy better than married couples. Single father or not, don't make a fool out of him."

"Sherlock came back from the dead. Whose to say this isn't an act?" One guy claimed.

"So, you aren't a fan?"

"Of course not, I believe Richard Brook was real." He said. Half the crowd glared. Jonah came in, bleary eyed, and half asleep.

"Why is the front of our house on the telly?" He asked, his voice rough and hoarse from sleep. Sherlock silently handed Jonah his uneaten toast, and watched in earnest. Mrs. Hudson came out to get the paper off the doorstep. The reporter went to her.

"Mrs. Hudson, how long have you known Sherlock?"

"All my life, dearest." She said. "He was the cutest little boy." Sherlock blushed, but was grateful for the support from his landlady. "I used to be a nanny of his, then when I got this place, he moved in."

"How long has he had a son?" They were trying to figure out Jonah's age.

"Oh, about two months now."

"But the boy he was seen, he was at least eight." Wrong. Morons.

"Well, Sherlock adopted the boy, what do you expect?" The crowd looked astonished.

"He did?" The reported asked.

"Of course he did. Sherlock didn't have a girlfriend eight years ago to have a child with." Molly was approaching. The reporter turned to her.

"Molly Hooper, what is your opinion on Sherlock's son?"

"He's the sweetest boy. He's really made a difference in Sherlock's life."

"How so?"

"I can't explain it. He just...he's different. It's like he's found something to give him...a heart? Hope?" Molly thought. "I dunno. But he's a great dad."

"Have you seen them together?"

"Of course. All the time. What kind of girlfriend of Sherlock's would I be if I didn't come see his son?" Molly looked at the reporter.

"I was under the impression the impression that Sherlock Holmes was never in a relationship."

"That's not true. His cousin is a close friend of his, that's a relationship. John Watson's his best friend, that's a relationship." Molly said. "Don't judge a man by the guard he keeps up to hide himself."

"Was he an avid drug user?"

"How should I know, it's not my business what he did in the past. I don't have time for this. Sherlock, if you're watching, I love you and Jonah, and I want you to know that I think you're an excellent father. Even if this lot doesn't." Sherlock smiled, and held onto Jonah.

"Me too." Mary said.

"So do I. Look, John Watson's about to be my future adopted father, and so I've met Sherlock. There isn't a greater man out there. Sherlock's a bit eccentric at times, but who isn't? He's amazing with Jonah, and I think you people are waisting your time." Sherlock turned off the television when Molly, Lucy, and Mary came in.

"Sherlock, did you get my email?" He nodded at Molly.

"Thank you." He said. "For defending us."

"Why don't people think you're a good dad? I think you are."

"I know. I've done some really bad things in my past that people don't like. And, it worries them that I'll do it again."

"But that was a long time ago." Jonah said. "It doesn't mean it'll happen now."

"No, it doesn't." They sat in silence for a moment. "All right, Jonah, go get ready for school. Molly and I'll take you." Today, Molly was well enough to go back to work, but not until later, so Sherlock had decided to take her out for breakfast.

"Okay, Daddy." He said, climbing out of Sherlock's lap, and padding off to change. Sherlock sighed.

"That boy needs his own room." John said.

"We don't have an extra bedroom John." Sherlock said.

"No, but it makes me want to move out sooner." He replied. Sherlock nodded. He wanted Jonah to at least have his own bed. He had taken to sleeping on the floor if he hadn't passed out on the couch, because he often moved in his sleep, and he didn't want to accidentally crush Jonah.

Speaking of Jonah...

Sherlock looked up to find Jonah wearing his only suit. Sherlock looked confused.

"Where's your uniform?"

"It's 'dress like your favorite person day.'" He said simply, pulling on the coat that matched Sherlock's and grabbing his backpack. Sherlock blushed.

"That's really sweet." Molly said. John and Mary exchanged an knowing glance.

"I'm ready." He said.

"Did you brush your teeth?" The boy looked up, and ran to the bathroom. Within two minutes he was back. Deciding it wasn't the time to argue, he let his son's dental habits go, and took his hand.

"There are a lot of people outside, Jonah, all right?" He nodded. "I want you to stay as close to me as possible. And keep your head down, so that they can't see your face. " Jonah nodded, and squeezed Sherlock's hand. He saw blue lights flashing against the wall, and John went to look outside.

"Go, Lestrade showed up." Nobody had called, but he figured that Lestrade had seen the news report. They went down the stairs, and Sherlock looked at Molly.

"Ready?"

"As ready as I'll ever be." She said. Sherlock opened the door, and found several reporters, as well as fans, gathering. Sherlock, gripping Jonah's hand tighter, began forcing his way through the crowd. BBC was at the front.

"Mr. Holmes, what's your sons name?"

"Mr. Holmes, where are you going?"

"Do all three of you always drop him off at school?"

"Do the two of you usually match?" Camera's took snapshots left and right, as Sherlock lifted Jonah into the squad car, then helped Molly in. He shut the door, and clambered into the front seat, next to Lestrade.

"Thank God you showed up." Molly said.

"Yes, thank you." Sherlock said. They drove off. The school was ten minutes away. When they got there, Sherlock groaned out loud; there were several more reporters there.

"You guys go, I'll call you a cab so you can get the hell out of here."

"Right." Sherlock muttered, before climbing out, and opening the door to retrieve his son, taking special care that Jonah's face was not exposed to the cameras. He helped Molly out, and picked up Jonah, noticing the amount of reporters had tripled the ones outside Baker Street. They went towards the crowd to go through it, because there was no way around them. Sherlock pressed Jonah's face into his shoulder, before they were close enough to get decent pictures.

"Sherlock, what's with the matching coats?"

"Was that Detective Inspector Lestrade?"

"What makes you think you can handle a child?" Sherlock pushed passed them, and into the building. He held Jonah close, keeping his face hidden, until they were in the office. Thankfully, the curtains were closed.

"I need the Headmaster." Sherlock said. The man in question came out.

"Can I help you Mr. Holmes?"

"Under no circumstances is Jonah allowed out of this building today. There are reporters and photographers milling about, and it's dangerous."

"We'll allow nobody out until they leave. Should I call the police?"

"I'll see if Greg can get back up." Molly said, pulling out her mobile, and dialing Lestrade. "Greg, it's me. Could you get backup to surround the school, so that these reporters leave? Thanks a million." She hung up, and looked relieved. "We're good. He hasn't been able to get a cab, so he'll get us out of here." Sherlock nodded, and set Jonah down.

"Sherlock?" Sherlock turned around.

"Mrs. Sheldon." He said, holding out his hand. "This is my girlfriend, Molly Hooper."

"Molly, nice to meet you. And, Jonah, looking good. Are you..." She looked from Jonah, to Sherlock, and back. "That's sweet. You dressed like your father?"

"Yes." Jonah said, grinning. Sherlock blushed.

"Well, I guess the news stories were wrong then." She grinned. "Don't worry, like I believe half of the news people's gossip anymore."

"Thank you." Sherlock said. Molly held his hand. Jonah wrapped his arms around Sherlock's leg for a hug. Sherlock knelt down and hugged Jonah goodbye, then Molly did. She kissed his hair.

"Be good, son."

"Daddy, you really shouldn't have to be worried about that." He said, sounding slightly irritated. He chuckled.

"All right, Jonah. Be careful with the reporters though." He nodded, and followed his teacher to the classroom. Sherlock reached for Molly's hand, and said, "Let's go." They went through the doors, and into the crowd. First, it was parents. Sherlock didn't mind the parents so much. It was the reporters afterwords.

Fortunately, Lestrade had called in serious back up, and was acting as their body guard. Sherlock didn't like the idea, but with a son, it was a necessity. He was harrassed by the reporters as he went, with Lestrade shouting orders to the unresponsive reporters, who were begging for photographs, and interviews with the detective, his son, and his girlfriend. Sherlock climbed into the back of the police car, and they drove off. Normally, Sherlock hated riding in the police car. Today, however, it was a relief. Sherlock was never more grateful for the flashing lights and blaring lights, as Greg Lestrade tore through the streets, and found them a place so they could have their breakfast. With a quick goodbye, Sherlock and Molly ran inside, and sat down in a booth. A waitress took their drink orders, and left them for a moment.

"That's going to bite when we have to go to John's wedding." Molly said, scanning over the menu.

"It really is." It had unsettled Sherlock. The ordered some pancakes and bacon, and ate in a worried silence.

"I can't eve go to work because of this."

"I'll get us there." Sherlock picked up his mobile and sent Mycroft a text. Within three minutes, there was a rather lengthy reply. "Done, Mycroft is sending a car, and some of his secret service men."

"Oh, Sherlock, you are a lifesaver." She said. "Thank you." He nodded, and continued on his breakfast. They finished, paid, and went outside. They were, blissfully, unfollowed, so they clambered into the limo Mycroft sent, and drove off. Even though it was still too early, they went straight to Barts, and were met with a massive crowd of reporters. The limo stopped, and Sherlock grabbed Molly's hand, before pulling her through the crowd, and into the building. They went into the mortuary, and, to the employees surprise, they were all holding hands.

"Sherlock, Molly?" They turned around and spotted John. "You're here early."

"Reporters."

"They got you too, eh?" John asked. "Figures."

"They were questioning you?" Sherlock asked.

"I live with you, I'm the inside scoop."

"Your blog may become useful. If you start posting everything you can about me, details they wouldn't even want to know, they may back off."

"I'll stat describing, in detail, what you and Molly get up to on the couch." So far, they had only been caught in a heated kissing session by both John and Mrs. Hudson. But that didn't mean John couldn't exaggerate slughtly. "Don't worry, I;ll be sure to mention that Jonah is at your cousin's, and that you thought that I was going away with Mary."

"Thank you."

Later that day, everywhere he went, Sherlock was met with the same amount of reporters. And, by the end of the day, he had one thought...

Would this hell never end?

**So, I took a slight updating break, because I got a bit stuck. Still haven't decided if I'm going to write on Kirsty and Sherlock's past or not. Any ideas? Thanks for the comments, and the support, they mean the world.**


	14. The Attention

The cold, blistering winter rolled into a beautiful spring, and soon enough, Jonah's last days of school loomed closer. Although his love of knowledge and learning had wanted to to last, he was excited to spend more time at home with Sherlock and Molly. The reporters had not given up, and Sherlock was soon the center of attention. They soon got around to Sherlock's faked death, and who was real; James Moriarty, or Richard Brook?

"You're seriously asking me that question? That was nearly five years ago." Lestrade said on the news the morning of Jonah's last day of school.

"But, we all want to know."

"I saw the body, the ballistics report, and I can assure you, it's him." Sherlock shut the telly off, and rubbed his face with his hand.

"Sherlock, if you give them the interview, then maybe they'll back off." For two weeks, BBC had been begging for an interview. Sherlock had continuously declined. They were asking that Jonah be on, and Molly, and Sherlock didn't want his son in the public eye.

"It's not happening. I'm not risking Jonah's safety."

"So don't bring him."

"They don't want an interview any other way." Sherlock said, looking a bit exasperated. "If I thought they'd do it without him, then I would go myself."

"Dad, I'll go. It's okay." He said. "Nobody at school cares that we've always got people around. Besides, Blake will be so jealous that I was on the telly." Blake still picked on Jonah, but, without the support from the rest of his classmates, he wasn't really affecting Jonah. Sherlock sighed.

"All right." Sherlock got up and went over to his desk. He picked up his phone, and went to his "missed calls" list, and found the correct number. He dialed it, sighed irritatedly, and waited for the call to be answered.

"BBC news."

"It's Sherlock Holmes. I think I'll take the interview."

Two days after Jonah got out of school, Sherlock was to have the interview. They had also requested the audience members to hold John, Mary, Lucy, Lestrade, Anderson, Donovan, Mycroft, Mrs. Hudson, and Dimmock, people he worked closely with.

Sherlock sat in a chair, barely tolerating the stage make up they slathered on his face. Molly waited wit him and Jonah. When it was finally over, they were lead to a couch, and sat down. Jonah, who looked uncertain about the amount of strangers, snuggled in between Molly and Sherlock.

"Welcome, Mr. Sherlock Holmes, and Doctor Molly Hooper." The interviewer said.

"Hello." Sherlock said, in forced politeness. He really hadn't wanted to be there, but because they would never get piece if he didn't set the record straight, they would never be able to leave their flat.

"We're live in five, four, three, two," The director signaled for them to start. After a brief explanation of the weekends weather, the camera moved to Sherlock.

"We're here with Mr. Holmes, Doctor Hooper, and young Jonah here, this morning. Good morning all."

"Good morning." Molly said, knowing Sherlock was biting back the urge to retort sarcastically. He stayed silent, legs crossed, fingertips steepled together.

"Well, Mr. Holmes, we finally meet young Jonah. Can I ask how old you are?"

"Um...I'll be seven soon." He said, rather shyly. Sherlock smiled down at him momentarily, before looking at the reporter.

"So, we have a picture here, and I wanted to clear up a few rumors with you Mr. Holmes." He nodded, and they showed a picture, Jonah's face buried to Sherlock's shoulder, of "Dress like your favorite person day" at school. "Does he dress like this often. I've heard rumors that you do dress him like this. I heard that he chooses this. What is the _real_ story?"

"Can I tell her, Dad?" Jonah asked. Sherlock gestured to him.

"By all means, son." He had on a sweater vest, tie, dress shirt, and khakis. Sherlock didn't want anyone to overreact to them "matching" again.

"It was 'dress like your favorite person day' at school. And I picked Daddy, because he's the one who adopted me, and saved me." He said. Everyone went, "_Awwww_." Sherlock, from Molly's "don't even think about it" look, refrained from rolling his eyes.

"That's sweet, Jonah. So, tell me, Sherlock, what brought about adopting Jonah here." Molly gripped his hand. They had known this question was coming up. Instead of telling them the enitre story, Sherlock would tell them half his reasoning.

"He was a young boy in need of help." Sherlock said. "I would like to think someone would have done the same for me if I was in his position. I may not like a lot of people, but to abandon a child is so...very wrong."

"You sound like you speak from experience." Sherlock gave her a rather cold look. He was avoiding that question.

"That's something that I will not share with the public. It's nobody's business but my own." Sherlock said. After a moment of awkward silence, the reporter shifted uncomfortably.

"Well, here's one. How did you two meet?" Sherlock looked at Molly, and she smiled.

"At St. Barts." She said. "I walked into the lab one morning, and he was just...there."

"I was working on an experiment for a particularly grueling case. Mike Stamford, her superior, was helping me on it, when she comes in with him. She was so young, I didn't think she was an actual mortician until she went off to do an autopsy."

"How old were you?"

"Twenty-five. I skipped a few grades in college." She said. "That was six years ago."

"All right, so, an odd version of an office romance. Did you two start dating right away."

"No, he told everyone he met he was married to his work. That changed after the fall." Sherlock smiled in her direction.

"So, how did you come to be in a relationship."

"I needed the support before Moriarty killed everything that I was. I was dead, in the sense that I hadn't been able to do my work, to talk to John and Mrs. Hudson, and Detective Inspector Lestrade. Molly, before it happened, when I knew it had to happen, gave me the support I needed."

"Mycroft, your brother, is in the audience this morning. People say he can find out anything. He didn't know you were still alive."

"Mycroft may be running half the British government, but that doesn't mean he's perfect by any means." Sherlock said.

"So, this Moriarty. Was he real, that's the question we all want to know."

"Very real." Sherlock said. "Molly met him, John was covered in Semtex because of him, and Mycroft had him in captivity. He wrote 'Get Sherlock' on the case of the Crown Jewels before destroying the case, yes he does exist. I wasn't that bored. I'm completely stupid, creating someone for my enjoyment wouldn't have been enough. I'd have known what he was going to do. Figuring it out who, how, and why was the chase I was after. Not a fake one."

"You said he's a consulting criminal. Could you explain what that means to us?"

"I'm a consulting detective." Sherlock said. "That means when someone needs my help, they consult me. Quite often, that involves the police."

"You work with the police?"

"From time to time."

"Do you have clearance to see what they have in their files?"

"Not that it's anyone's concern, but I do, in fact." Because of the Chief Superintendent's guilt for thinking Sherlock and Lestrade were guilty, he'd decided to unofficially put Sherlock on the force, and start paying him. Lestrade was on his way to another promotion, which would make him the youngest Superintendent that the Yard had seen in twenty years. He was barely forty.

"Here's another rumor I think we can clear up, Mr. Holmes." Her male co-worker sitting next to her was looking curious. "Are you a show off? Is that why you do all this?"

"He'll tell you he's a show off, but he's not." Molly said. "He takes the cases that interest him, not the ones that are the highest profile. He's not trying to get his name out, it annoys him that John even started the blog about him."

"But you mouthed off in court, you tell people everything about them that you figure out, just to make them mad, Mr. Holmes." The man said.

"I'm not doing this for the attention. It's what pays my rent, and feeds my son. Look, I invented my job because I like what I do. It's not my way of saying that I'm better than anyone."

"We'd like to invite a few of the people you work with up." Lestrade, John, and Anderson came up. _Oh, fantastic._ Sherlock thought. John sat next to Molly. Lestrade sat next to Sherlock, and Anderson sat next to Lestrade.

"Tell us, Detective Inspector, what is it like working with Sherlock."

"You feel stupid." He said. "John can attest to that. He observes everything within moments, and once he starts to explain, they become so simple that you really wonder why you hadn't seen it."

"How long have you known everyone, Sherlock?"

"Molly, six years, John five, Lestrade almost twenty, and Anderson seven years."

"And you don't call all of them by their first names?"

"When I met Sherlock, I was introduced to him as Officer Lestrade. If that's how he meets you, he doesn't know you any other way. Same with Jimmy here." Anderson nodded.

"How did you meet Sally Donovan then?" Anderson asked Sherlock.

"Lestrade says, 'This is Sally Donovan, be nice, she's new to our team.' Then walks away like it was a totally normal thing to say to me."

"What, be nice?" John asks. "I say that on a regular basis."

"That's different." Sherlock said, sounding irritated. Jonah had, at some point, climbed into his father's lap.

"How do you get along with him, Doctor Anderson." That question made Sherlock uneasy.

"We don't. Neither one of us likes the other. It's hard to like someone that hates you."

"You didn't like him the second you met." Lestrade said to Anderson.

"I never said who it was coming from." Sherlock fought back the urge to blush.

"Mr. Holmes, I have a question. Why don't you do this professionally? Actually join the force at Scotland Yard?"

"I'm a freelance private detective, I don't want to join Scotland Yard." Sherlock said.

"Sherlock, join Scotland Yard? He wouldn't have enough to work that brain of his. Sherlock needs cases, and we don't always have those. We hire him when we absolutely need him. Most of the time, he's traveling the country, helping others." Lestrade said.

"It wouldn't be right." Molly said. "Sherlock works fine the way he is." Sherlock looked at her,

"I'd be in to see you for reports more."

"But you'd never stay long." Molly said. "And I couldn't work with you on your experiments, or the dead body part of your cases. I like helping, and, when you come get a ballistics report, then leave, it's not as helpful." Sherlock smirked.

"Are you two planning on a wedding?"

"No." They both said.

"We haven't been together that long." Molly said. "It's a bit early into the relationship to be thinking about marriage." Sherlock looked at her.

"Besides, I don't need to be married to Molly for her to know she's mine." Molly blushed.

"Thank you, Sherlock." She said, kissing his cheek.

"Well, thank you, Mr. Holmes and crew, for helping the truth to come out. Thank you."

"Thank you." They all murmered. Sherlock still wondered if he had done the right thing.

Two weeks later, they were able to leave the flat. Although both Sherlock and John got autograph requests (John made him sign things to "not seem rude") they were left alone for the most part. Finally. They weren't worried about the wedding being bombarded anymore. They could go in peace.

And peace is what Sherlock wanted most.


	15. The Watsons

Sherlock was in a three piece tuxedo, one he never dreamed of wearing. He was getting dressed in the nearly-empty bedroom at 221B. John had moved everything else out, accept the bed. Mary's bed was bigger, and they decided that they would use hers instead. John's room was the only room with a full-length mirror (Mrs. Hudson said it had come with the flat, and Sherlock just left it.) and was currently trying his bow tie. John was pale, and nervous.

Jonah came in, Lestrade and Megan right behind him. He wore a tuxedo, complete with bow tie, and ring bearer's pillow. Sherlock smirked.

"Well, don't you two look dashing." Megan said to John and Sherlock. They went bright red, and said nothing. Lestrade smirked.

"All right, let's go." They climbed into a car that wasn't made for Scotland Yard, and drove to the church. John, Sherlock, and Greg were the lineup. On Mary's side, it was Mary, Molly, and Lucy. Jonah was the ring bearer, and really wasn't part of any line up. He just stood there. He would be walking down the aisle alone.

When it was time, John went to the alter, followed by Sherlock, then Greg. They stood, waiting. The Wedding March played from the organist. Sherlock's volin and music stand were in the same area. As best man, he had decided to compose a song for the couple. Normally, sentiment wasn't something Sherlock did, but he decided he needed to give his best friend a proper send off. First, Molly walked down the aisle.

"Well, doesn't she look beautiful?" The priest said. Sherlock nodded, and smiled at her. She blushed as she approached, and got into her spot. Then came Lucy, who was looking radiant, but a bit embarrassed.

"Well, she looks lovely." Lestrade said.

"Sorry, I know you got paired with a kid."

"No, it;s all right. She's you're new daughter, I'm just her escort for the night." Sherlock grinned when Jonah came down the aisle, holding the pillow and blushing like mad. John even chuckled. Molly and Lucy looked at him like he was the most endearing thing in the world. Jonah grinned at Sherlock, and stood behind Lestrade.

"Good job." Lestrade said to Jonah.

"Thank you." He whispered back. Everyone stood, and John looked at Mary, gripping Sherlock's arm through his nerves. Mary was the most beautiful woman in the room, and Sherlock was smirking at John.

"Go, John." He stumbled towards the alter, where Mary and her father had reached. Mr. Morstan lifted his daughter's veil, kissed her, held her in a hug, and shook John's hand. Together, John and Mary went up to the priest. He whispered something, and Mary blushed. She handed Molly her bouquet, and took John's hands. The priest opened his Bible, and looked up at the smiling couple.

"Dearly beloved. We are gathered here today, in the sight of God, to join these two in Holy Matrimony." After the prayers were said, the priest looked to Sherlock. "It's my understanding that the best man has written a song for the bride and groom." Sherlock walked towards his violin, and checked to make sure his music was in the right order. Mycroft got up, and would be accompanying him on the piano. It had only taken two days to compose the work, but it was the best damn piece he'd ever written, if he did say so himself.

Sherlock put his instrument at the ready, and looked to Mycroft, who nodded once. Sherlock pulled back the bow, playing the first note. Instantly, the crowd was enraptured. Everyone watched as Sherlock's finger's flew across the strings. His eyes were closed, completely content. People who weren't crying, began crying, and those who were in tears already had started crying harder. Even John was looking a bit teary-eyed. Sherlock played his heart out, until the two brother's had hit the end note, and he bowed. Sherlock was surprised by the thunderous applause they received. John and Mary, who had come over to watch them by invitation of the priest, had approached them. John hugged Sherlock, and said, "Thanks, mate." Sherlock smiled, and they made their way back to the correct places. They moved on to the vows.

"...as long as we both shall live." John repeated. Then, it was Mary's turn.

"...In sickness, and health, as long at we both shall live." Mary was nearly in tears. John was grinning like an idiot. They had their rings on, and were holding each others hands tightly. Jonah was grinning, Lucy and Molly were crying, and Sherlock...

Well, he was Sherlock.

"I now pronounce you man and wife. You may now kiss the bride." John crushed his mouth to Mary's, and they kissed right there. People cheered. Sherlock politely clapped. They broke apart, grinned, and faced the crowd. Everyone cheered. They made their way up the aisle. When they were half way, Sherlock and Molly met half way across the alter, and she took his arm. They made their way back down too, through the cheerful crowd, and into the foyer.

"Congratulations!" Molly said, hugging them both all at once. Sherlock shook their hands, and smiled.

"I had no idea you were planning on playing." Mary said. "That's really sweet of you, thank you."

"Absolutely." Sherlock said. Lestrade and Lucy, followed quickly by Jonah, were out next.

"Congrats, John." Lestrade and John had a "bro hug" (Roger's famous words when they were young, not Sherlock's) and Lucy hugged Mary. They held on tight. John held onto them both.

"Sherlock." He turned to the voice or Mrs. Watson, John's mother. "That was such a beautiful piece."

"I don't think I've heard that one." John said.

"I wrote it for the wedding." Sherlock said. The organist, who had given Sherlock his first violin lessons, handed Sherlock his violin and case. He would also be playing a piece at the wedding.

"You did, seriously?"

"Do you realize how difficult it is to write music for your flatmate's wedding when he's usually home? I had to go to Molly's house to compose."

"Is that what you kids are calling it these days?" Mr. Holmes asked, teasing his son. Sherlock scowled at his father. "I'm kidding, Sherlock, I'm kidding." He turned to John. "Congratulations, John."

"Thank you, Mr. Holmes." Mrs. Holmes hugged Sherlock.

"Don't you look dashing, love."

"Thank you, Mummy." Sherlock said.

"You're piece was marvelous." She said, as Mycroft had joined them.

"Thank you." They said.

"Where did you find an organist, Sherlock?" Mary asked.

"He was my first music tutor. He owed me a favor." Sherlock said, clinging to his violin case. After congratulations were spread around, the congregation and wedding party made their way to the hall for the party. Sherlock, Molly, Lestrade, Lucy, Jonah, John, and Mary all rode together in a Mycroft-provided limo to the reception.

After a while, Sherlock had grown tired of deducing others, meeting family members, and avoiding people. Molly had been rather chatty, and decided it was high time to come talk to Sherlock. She kissed his cheek, and he wrapped an arm around her. Before she could say a word, Lestrade approached with a drink, which he shoved in Sherlock's hand, and said, "Come on, best man speech." Sherlock groaned, but oblidged.

"Can I have your attention?" Lestrade shouted. When nobody heard him, he whistled rather loudly. Everyone went quite. "Sherlock's doing his best man speech." They looked at him expectantly.

"Thank you, Lestrade." Sherlock said. "There's a lot to be said, and not enough wording to express it. You were there when I came back. You were there when the press wanted everything they could get out of me. You were there when I needed an assistant." Sherlock said, holding his drink, his voice carrying amongst the silent crowd. "You believed in me when everyone else thought I really was fake. You never gave up on me. I can't say that about many people." Sherlock swirled his drink around in his glass. "You were there when I tried to quit smoking, and whenever I was injured after a particularly grueling case. Thank you." Sherlock raised his glass of champagne. "To the bride and groom." He said, drinking his entire glass in one go.

"To the bride and groom." Everyone else said, making the toast. Sherlock smiled, and John grinned.

"Thanks, mate." John said. Sherlock nodded once, before handing a passing waiter his empty glass. Molly approached Sherlock, grabbed his hand, and dragged him to the floor for a dance. They rotated around, until they were asked to clear the floor for the Daddy/Daughter dance. John had taken Harry for a dance. They may not have got on, but he hated to see his sister so upset. Mr. Holmes sat next to Sherlock for the dance.

"Ever make you wonder what life would have been like if your mum and I had one more child?"

"What do you mean?"

"We planned on trying for a third." Mr. Holmes said. "But, unfortunately, it didn't work out. We were going to have three kids, and we were hoping your younger sibling would have been a girl. I did want a girl to dote on. Like you did with..."

"Lily." Sherlock said. Mr. Holmes went quiet.

"You know...they're allowed to see me. I know where they live." Sherlock tensed. "Just...giving you a thought." Sherlock knew where they lived, too. He sent them cards and money for their birthdays and Christmas every year. He even sent Callum and Lily each a family photograph he'd discovered in his parents home, just before the fall. John thought he was on a case. Sherlock never bothered to correct him.

"I'm not really-"

"They're legal adults now." Mr. Holmes said. "Sherlock, Lily asks about you all the time. I'm sure Callum is interested too, but he's a teenage boy, he won't want to express his feelings. He's too much like his father."

"IS he...like me?"

"Autistic you mean? No. Aspberger's, yes." Mr. Holmes said. "He's a fine young man though. Lily's wonderful too, of course." Sherlock nodded.

"I'll contact Lily soon enough, her birthday is in a few days." Sherlock wasn't sure he could wrap his head around the idea that his daughter was eighteen. Mr. Holmes laughed. Molly was off to the side, having a chat with Mrs. Hudson, Greg, and Megan. After the dance was over, Sherlock stood, and headed straight for Mary.

"Excuse me, Mr. Morstan, but may I cut in?" Sherlock asked her father.

"Absolutely, Sherlock." He kissed his daughter on her cheek, and walked away. John looked worried that his father-in-law was approaching. Sherlock smirked. He danced with the bride.

"This is a pleasant surprise, Sherlock."

"I'll cut to the chase." Sherlock said, looking at a very surprised Mary. "You better not do anything to prevent John and I from doing what we do." Mary looked at him, then laughed.

"Sherlock, you seriously believe I would? I married John, and inadvertently got you too. It's not that big of a deal to me. He was doing this long before I met him, I can't take that away."

"So glad you understand. Now, where is your honeymoon?" John refused to tell him, worried he'd be interrupted. Sherlock wasn't stupid. He knew better than to interrrupt John during his honeymoon. There were suggestive and compromising positions he really didn't want to picture John in. She laughed.

"Not a chance, Sherlock. He won't even tell me."

"Blast." Sherlock said. They went quiet for a moment.

"You know...Molly really likes you." She said. Sherlock looked at her. "Please...don't hurt her. She doesn't need it." Before Sherlock could respond, Mary's brother was interrupting the dance, and Sherlock suddenly found himself in his Molly's arms, dancing.

By the end of the party, only Mary, Lucy, John, Sherlock, Molly, Lestrade, Megan, Mr. and Mrs. Holmes, Mike Stamford, and a handful of relatives were left. Mrs. Hudson and Jonah had gone home for the night. Everyone who looked at the dance floor found two things; John Watson was in love, and Sherlock Holmes was in love.

Sherlock, who never walked around in public without his suit jacket, had removed his bow tie, jacket, vest, and had even untucked his shirt, and was slowly rotating around in Molly's arms, her arms around his neck, his around her waist. They'd been dancing for hours, and they hadn't stopped in a long time. Molly's head was on his chest, Sherlock's chin to the top of Molly's head. They were so relaxed.

Lestrade made sure to get pictures. This was one moment he'd never forget.


	16. The Declaration

Sherlock was standing in the living room, when Jonah came downstairs. He watched Sherlock tune his violin, and look over a piece he'd been composing for a few days.

"Do you love Molly?" Jonah asked. Sherlock nearly dropped his Stradivarius.

"I beg your pardon?"

"Do you love Molly?" Sherlock put down the violin, and looked at Jonah, sinking into his favorite chair.

"Yes. I do." Sherlock said. "Very much."

"Have you told her yet?" Jonah asked. Sherlock wondered where Jonah's questions came from.

"No, son, I haven't." Sherlock said. Jonah was quiet, but he knew there would be another question, so he didn't bother picking up his violin.

"I think you should tell her." Jonah said. "Girls like it when you tell them you love them."

"Oh do they now? What makes you a girl expert?' Sherlock asked the boy.

"Sally told me. She said when her Daddy says it, she feels special to him. I think Molly knows she's special to you, but I think you should make her feel more special." Jonah said. Sherlock was regretting allowing the boy a play date at Roger's flat. Every time he hung out with Sally, the boy had new dating advice from Sherlock. Although, he'd never admit it, he tried it out, and it seemed to work.

"How do you suggest I go about telling her, oh wise one?" Jonah looked thoughtful.

"When she least thinks it'll happen. Maybe when she walks out of the door, or you leave her at her flat after a date." That wasn't a bad idea, Sherlock though. Spontaneity was the base of their relationship. They went out to dinner, they decided when Sherlock came to pick her up what the plans were. When she least expected it, he'd get affectionate (only when nobody was around). His mobile rang.

"Where?"

"We need you at the Yard. Somethings come up, and we're stuck."

"On my way." Sherlock jumped up, and said, "Grab your coat, we're going to Scotland Yard." Jonah ran to grab his wind breaker, before they went into the day. It was August, but the dark clouds, promise of rain, and fierce winds made it chilly. Sherlock and Jonah ran outside, and Sherlock hailed a cab, and scooped up Jonah. He opened the door, and tossed Jonah into it, before clambering himself, and saying, "Scotland Yard, and hurry." They made it in record time.

"Molly?" Jonah asked, once they reached the correct floor. Sherlock really want to know why his girlfriend was at the Yard. Not that he minded...

"Sherlock, why did you bring Jonah?"

"Because I didn't have anything to do with him." Sherlock said. Mrs. Hudson had been visiting her sister for the weekend, and John was on his honeymoon. Granted, Lucy was home, but Sherlock hadn't had time. Yes, Lucy was home by herself, but John and Mary had asked Mary's parents and John's mother to keep an eye on her throughout the week. In fact, John's mother had come to stay for the week, rather than dumping Lucy into another unfamiliar place with someone she barely knew. Sherlock had also been elected to keep an eye on the girl during the day, if he wasn't working.

"All right. Anderson, can you entertain Jonah for five minutes?" Anderson nodded, and Jonah went to join him, looking uncertain. Sherlock knelt down.

"Look, Jonah, I won't be gone long." Sherlock said, tousling the boy's hair. "All right?" Jonah nodded, and hugged Sherlock. "All right." He stood upright, and, ignoring everyone's looks of surprise, went inside.

"What are you doing here, exactly?" Sherlock asked Molly, looking confused, not angry.

"You need an assistant, and Greg needed a file. I'm off work, so why not?" As if he needed a reason to love Molly more. Sherlock smiled, and turned to Lestrade. "What have you got for me?"

"A murderer who we believed committed suicide." Sherlock looked at Lestrade.

"A murderer?"

"He's part of the Russian Mafia." Lestrade said, throwing down the file. Sherlock read through it, then handed the file to Molly.

"What are we supposed to do? Arrest the dead guy?" Sherlock was mocking Lestrade.

"No, we think the five other murders that have happened this week are connected to this guy. We believe we have the head of the Mafia located here." Molly looked at him in shock. "We'll be working with agents from MI5. You're brother brought me the case."

"I'll take it." Sherlock said.

"Knew you would. Jonah's going to need somewhere to go. You can't drag your son into it." There was a knock on the door. "Come in." Donovan came in.

"Someone is here to see you, Freak." Sally said. Sherlock went into the corridor, and found Mycroft and Roger were there.

"I'm here to take Jonah off your hands for the weekend. If you don't mind."

"Of course not." Jonah ran at Roger, and hugged him. "Did you bring your daughter?"

"Why wouldn't I?" She peered out from behind Roger's legs, and her face lit up.

"Sherlock!" She jumped into his arms, and he hugged her. After a quick word, and a key to 221B so Roger could get Jonah's clothes, they left.

"All right, we're meeting in the conference room in about twenty minutes with the agents." Lestrade said. Then went in that direction, and waited. Sherlock paced, going over the facts.

Two weeks later, Sherlock had cracked the case, and had made it into the hospital, as the result of a flyaway shot. He awoke in pain, surrounded by Molly, Lestrade, John, Roger, Mycroft, and Anderson and Donovan, who looked annoyed. They must have been forced there by Lestrade.

"Sherlock?" Roger asked, sitting on the edge of the bed. "How do you feel?"

"Like I got run over by a bloody lorry." Sherlock grumbled.

"He's back." Roger said, laughing more out of relief than any humor. "Jonah's with Mrs. Hudson."

"Good." Sherlock said. "What's with my arm?" His arm was swathed in bandages, and hurt like hell.

"You got shot in the arm, Sherlock." John said. "It's wrapped to protect it." Sherlock hated that. "Fortunately, it missed you're main arteries in your arm." Lestrade nodded. Molly sat on the other side of his bed, and held his good hand. Sherlock squeezed it in reassurance. Sherlock didn't usually reassure people, but he could feel how bad her finger's trembled, and how much fear there was radiating off of her body. She leaned in, and buried her face into his neck. His arm wrapped around her. It was the best feeling in the world to Sherlock.

"I was so worried." Sherlock wasn't used to this much affection, and it made him a tad uncomfrotable. Everyone else looked really uncomfortable. He wanted to laugh.

"Molly, listen to me." He pulled her away for a moment, and looked at her. "It's all right. I'm going to be fine. I've suffered worse than this." Lestrade and Roger knew that all too well, and nodded gravely. "Don't worry about me, or you'll be here next." Mycroft looked at Sherlock.

"She's worried." He said. Sherlock didn't need confirmation on who "she" was.

"When isn't she?" He replied, rather haughtily. Secretly, he liked that his mother was worried, but knew to come visit him when he was alone.

"True, but she's never this bad off."

"She wouldn't know unless you told her." Sherlock retorted. Lestrade shook his head.

"Unfortunately, the story got into the press, including you're involvement, and the shooting." Sherlock groaned.

"Why was I mentioned?"

"Because you were shot, Freak, the wound had to be reported." She had a point, but not the one Sherlock was going for.

"What idiot doctor gave away my name?"

"Hey!" John said. "All right, I get it when you call other people idiots, but my wife is crossing the line, mate."

"Your...Mary was my surgeon?" Sherlock looked surprised.

"What other surgeons would you have trusted?" Sherlock hadn't realized that John was married to a surgeon. He knew she was a doctor, but what he hadn't a clue. Well, that was convenient.

"None, I've never had surgery until...what day is it?"

"The thirtieth of July."

"Three days ago." Sherlock said. Mycroft sighed, and rubbed his face.

"Do try to stay out of trouble, dear brother."

"How long have you known him?" Lestrade asked. Mycroft smirked on his way out the door.

"That's your brother?" Anderson asked.

"Unfortunately." Sherlock said, looking rather irritated. Molly pressed her lips to his cheek, and laid her head in his lap. He absently started playing with her hair, and talking to John, asking about what the press had said, and if they left Jonah alone. Finally, they left, and only Molly was there.

"I missed you." She said to him. "I was afraid you weren't going to survive. You died twice." Sherlock clung to her fingers. "I love you." Sherlock sat her up, and held her in his arms.

"And I love you, Molly Hooper."

**Not where I was expecting this to go, at all, but that's how it goes, eh? So, I've got a start on the prequel, which is Sherlock and Kirsty, and I want you all to check it out. It'll be posted not long after this one, and it's called "This Life Of Mine." It tells the full story.**

**If you have Twitter, , Wordpress, YouTube, I will gladly follow you! My websites will be updated onto my profile for everyone. Thank you all for your support. This is amazing. Wouldn't it be awesome if I could get the cast to read this, and they LIKED it? It's a far shot, but I still think it would be funny. Because Mr. Freeman and Mr. Cumberbatch find Johnlock interesting...what would they think of Sherlolly? Just a thought!**


	17. The Moments

Sherlock and Molly sat on the living room floor, laughing. The coffee table had been moved off to the side, and they were picnicking on the floor. Sherlock, who was often without a babysitter, had dates at home, so that Jonah could sleep, and he could spend time with Molly. Currently, they were playing "Would you rather...?"

"All right...Would you rather...snog Lestrade or John?" Molly asked.

"Easy, John. He wouldn't be able to arrest me for sexual assault of an officer." Molly giggled. "Would you rather...sleep with Mike to get unlimited access to you morgue, or sleep with Lestrade to get _me_ unlimited access to the police station."

"That's too easy, Lestrade. I've already got that level of clearance at Barts." Sherlock looked at her in complete shock.

"You do?"

"I was promoted last night." She said, laughing. "You, on the other hand, don't have that kind of access."

"Wrong, my brother can get me the information I need." Molly looked defeated. She grinned wickedly, and said, "Would you rather go to Scotland Yard's party in a dress, or naked?" Sherlock looked at her in shock.

"Molly Hooper." He said. "Have we got fantasies on our minds this evening?" Molly went crimson, something Sherlock found rather...attractive.

"No," She began indignantly. "I just was curious." Sherlock deduced the lies within seconds.

"Liar." Sherlock said. "Molly Hooper, as your boyfriend, I deserve to know if you have sexual fantasies about me!" She blushed deeper, and looked at her hands.

"So, how about that football match..."

"Don't you dare avoid the question, Molly Elizabeth. Now tell me the damned answer!" He said, getting to his hands and knees.

"What'll you do to me if I don't?" She asked, talking in a childishly sassy voice. She added to this childishness by sticking her tongue out at Sherlock, who looked momentarily surprised, before making his attack. He crawled towards Molly, and began attacking her sides lightly with his long, nimble fingers. She giggled and squirmed while Sherlock continued his assault, his lips also coming in contact with her neck. She squirmed under his rather arousing attack, and was at his complete mercy.

"Give up yet?" He growled, his voice sensual, and two octaves lower than normal. It barely reached a whisper, and Molly shivered.

"Deduce me, detective." She whispered back. He had her pinned to the floor in seconds, and was now transferring his assault from her sides, to her lips. They kissed, slowly and sensually. Sherlock deepened the kiss, and started running his hands up her sides. She groaned into his mouth, and he slid his hands up the waistband of her shirt, making it just past her belly button, and just under her breasts...

...and she was gone. Sherlock looked thrown completely off guard, and, as a result from Molly moving away so suddenly, he fell flat on his face into the carpet with an unceremonious "Oomph." He picked himself up, and looked up, where Molly had moved five feet away.

"I can't, I'm sorry." Molly stood up, and Sherlock soon joined her. He went to her, and held the now sobbing pathologist in his arms.

"Shh, Molly, my love. It's all right." He soothed. "Did I hurt you?" She shook her head into his shoulder. His chest tightened. "Who?" He was afraid he knew the answer.

"Jim." She whispered. "Greg knows. They all did." Sherlock held to her tighter. It kept him from shooting the wall, or punching it. Or both, for that matter.

"Don't worry, my sweet, sweet, Molly." Sherlock said. "If you aren't ready...honestly, I wasn't going much farther." She looked into his eyes.

"Really?"

"I was internally having a panic attack." He admitted, rather sheepishly. "I'm...not sure I'm really ready to get there myself." Molly clung to Sherlock.

"I love you." She kissed his neck.

"I love you too." There was a long moment of silence.

"You promise to wait for me?" Molly whispered.

"As long as it takes." Sherlock said. As long as it takes.

"Seriously Sherlock, what is it?"

"Nothing at all." Sherlock smirked, and walked with John to Lestrade's office. Sherlock had been in a rather good mood all day. John decided that Sherlock had gotten laid. Sherlock was just...planning. Planning what? Oh...nothing special.

"Sherlock, here's-" Lestrade looked at Sherlock, who looked rather...happy.

"Is he all right? He looks like he..." Lestrade looked like he was trying to figure out what he wanted to say.

"Got laid?" John offered.

"Yeah." Lestrade said. "Wonder what's going on in that funny little head of his."

"I've been trying to figure that out sense I met him." Lestrade couldn't argue there.

When John and Mary had come back from their honeymoon, they threw a house warming party. Several doctors, officers from the Yard (even Anderson and Donovan), Lestrade, Mrs. Hudson, Sherlock, Molly, Jonah, Megan, Sherlock's parents, and Mike Stamford were there. Even Mycroft had shown up, although most people either didn't know him or weren't expecting his appearance. In all, there were around twenty-five people in John and Mary's large back yard. It had an underground pool, and a trampoline that came with the house. Lestrade and John were grilling, while women gossiped, children ran around, and men talked about sports. Well, except Sherlock and Mycroft. They were secretly comparing deductions about people.

"Affair with two men, and a woman."

"Married, but unhappily. Has five love children."

"Look, a baker."

"A bartender."

"A massage therapist."

"Boys, what are you doing all by yourselves?" Mrs. Hudson asked, smiling.

"Comparing deductions, Mrs. Hudson." Sherlock said. "Why?"

"Oh, come on, enjoy the party." Sherlock hated parties. Jonah ran up to him.

"Hi Dad!"

"Jonah, hello." Sherlock said.

"Jonah." Mycroft said.

"Hello Uncle Mycroft, Mrs. Hudson." Jonah said, grinning. He clambered onto the chair next to Sherlock, and looked up at him. "Will you come play with me?"

"Not now, son." He wasn't really up to running after his energetic six year old boy. _Almost seven, actually. Have to get him that birthday present._ Sherlock mused.

"Why, cause you're an old man?" Jonah teased. Several of the nearby officers overheard, and turned to watch.

"No, I'm not old."

"Yes you are." Jonah shot back, jumping off his chair, and backing away slowly. "You're so old, dinosaurs were still alive when you were born." Sherlock shot out of his chair after Jonah. The boy screamed and ran around the yard. The officers burst out laughing. Sherlock chased Jonah around the pool full of people, passed the doctor's he met, but never remembered their names, and around a group of officers. Finally, Jonah ran and hid behind Molly, who was five feet away from John and Lestrade, who were talking to Dimmock, Anderson, Sally, and Brenman. They looked at the three. Jonah shouted, "Molly, save me!"

"What the hell is going on?" Molly asked.

"Jonah started it!" He said.

"Seriously Sherlock? How old are we?"

"He called me old!" Molly looked at Jonah, who looked up at her.

"I did." He was so blunt, and so honest, that Sherlock, Molly, Lestrade, Anderson, Sally, Brenman, and John burst out laughing.

"At least he admits it." Molly said. Jonah grinned. Sherlock picked him up, and threw the bathing-suit clad boy over his shoulder. He giggled.

"No, Daddy, stop! Put me down!" He said, laughing. Sherlock went over toward the pool grinning evily. Mary was standing near Sherlock's target, and was laughing at him.

"You better hold your breath and plug your nose." Sherlock said, while Jonah continued to laugh. He heard the boy suddenly stop, and Mary held her arms out, ready to catch Jonah. Sherlock, using one hand, took the boy off his shoulder, and grabbed him with the other arm. He tossed Jonah into the water, right in front of Mary. Jonah went under, then came back up, gasping, and laughing. Mary held the boy as he giggled. Sherlock walked away triumphantly, and found Molly sitting alone in the grass. He sat down to join her. He was wearing a pair of black, skinny fit jeans, and a pair of Converse Molly forced him to wear. On tip, he had a plain white t-shirt on, with a pair of sunglasses protecting his eyes. Molly leaned against him, and they sat there in a contended silence.

Lucy Watson-Morstan, who had been taking pictures, caught the pair. Their backs were facing them, and Lucy saw it as the perfect picture. She was into photography, and was good at it. So, with her very nice camera, she shot the two of them, snuggled together. She smiled, and went over to talk to John for a moment. As she was there, she snapped a picture of him, wearing an apron Mary had found him that read, "Kiss the Cook." Lucy giggled when he blushed.

"What are you up too?" Sherlock, on the other hand, was completely content, snuggled close to Molly, and quite. They were comfortable, and quite happy with their sitting arrangement. Well, until Molly decided it was a good time to lay down. Sherlock joined her suit, and pulled Molly to his chest. She listened to his steady heartbeat for a while. Finally, she looked up at him, and kissed his jaw. Sherlock looked down, and suddenly, flipped Molly over. They were kissing, slowly, sensually. They never went farther than a kiss. Sherlock pulled away, and sat, legs on either side of Molly, her curled up between them. Sherlock held her tight.

At dinner, Sherlock was at a table with Anderson, Donovan, Lestrade, Megan, and Lucy, who had decided to hang around Jonah. Mycroft had brought Archie, and he had joined them soon afterwords, followed by Molly. Fortunately, it was a large table someone had thought to bring.

"Hey, Uncle Sherlock." Sherlock looked at his nephew, who was sitting on his left. Molly sat on his right, holding his right hand under the table. She always sat on his right (Sherlock was left handed).

"Yes, Archie?"

"Dad says he's got information for you. What were you planning on doing?"

"I don't know." Sherlock said.

"Watch, you'll wind up in Buckingham Palace again." John said, sitting down. Lestrade looked surprised.

"Yeah, next time Uncle Sherlock, put your clothes on. I love you, but I never wanted the image of my Uncle in a bed sheet and nothing else." Everyone stared, and Sherlock blushed.

"I was only trying to annoy my brother."

"Well, you did it, and scarred me for life." Archie said. Sherlock gave him a withering look. Molly leaned in to his ear, her head turned away from everyone else so that they couldn't read her lips, or hear what she would whisper.

"I'd like to see you like that." Her whisper was seductive, and, while he was surprised, it had turned him on to no end. He looked at her, face reddening more, eyes going wide.

Nobody at that table was sure they wanted to know what she said.

Not even the most curious ones...


	18. The Birthday

Sherlock, John, Mary, and Molly, who were at Scotland Yard, being questioned for a case, were on their way out the door.

"Sherlock!" One called. Sherlock turned around, and looked at Officer Brenman.

"Officer?"

"Listen, you guys know Lestrade well, right?" They nodded. "Well, his fortieth birthday is coming up. We want to throw him a surprise party. Will you help us?"

"Of course." Molly said. Brenman grinned.

"Great. Come on to the break room, some of us are planning now." They went in that direction, and sat down.

"We're going to hold in it a hall." Officer Snyder said.

"What're we going to tell him?" John asked. "Like, why is going to be there?" Everyone went silent.

"I've got it." DI Gregson looked at them. "Chief Superintendent, it's you're wedding anniversary soon, right?"

"Yeah, so?"

"Maybe we'll tell him it's a party we're throwing for you. We'll say that your brother is planning on luring you there." CS Ryder's brother was on forensics.

"All right." John like the idea.

"How are we going to get Greg there?" Molly asked.

"I had an idea." Anderson said. "Molly, you two are best friends. Convince him to have you, Sherlock, him, and Megan to go together. Maybe say that it's easier, or have him come over to your flat for a few hours, then say 'Oh, just bring your clothes for the party, we'll all just go from here' or something."

"John and I can plant the idea of a birthday celebration at Molly's in his head." Sherlock said. "Molly, you invite him and Megan over, we'll talk about it."

"How can you make that convincing, Sherlock?" Gregson asked. "You don't do parties."

"I'll complain about how dreadful it is that John and Moll are forcing me to go."

"Me and Mary are forcing you to stay with us. Molly's your girlfriend, it wouldn't be that difficult to get you to go to her flat anyway." John pointed out. Sherlock noted that he had a good point.

"What about gifts?" Mary asked.

"We're going to be doing something from everyone, but anything extra is up to you."

"I have an idea for a group present." Sally said, pulling out a small video camera. "And we can all do it."

Moll and Sherlock went back to Lestrade's office, and went in the open doorway when he waved them through. "I thought you two had left."

"We were making dinner plans with Mary and John, and forgot to tell you something."

"Oh?" Lestrade said, looking at Molly.

"We've decided to have a birthday celebration for you, at my flat. Megan is invited."

"It's a shame my kids are going away to college the day before." Lestrade had opposite sex twins, Kyle and Kelsey. "But thank you."

"Unfortunately, it's on your birthday, which is the same day as Ryder's anniversary party." They had already passed around the fake party. "So, bring your party clothes to change into. We'll all go together."

"Who's watching Jonah?"

"Probably Mrs. Hudson. Then again, with her hip acting up, I might send him to Roger and Anna's for the night." Sherlock said.

"All right. Are they making you attend this party?' Lestrade joked. Sherlock scowled at him.

"He'll be there, and on his best behavior." They bade him goodbye, and Brenman grinned.

_Phase One...Complete._

On October 15, they were all in Molly's flat, having a nice lunch. They kept it small, and simple, because of the food being offered at "Ryder's" party. They gave him their presents. He opened John and Mary's first.

"Oh, thank you." It was an iPod touch, 16 gigabytes, and with some of his favorite songs already uploaded and fully charged. "I was looking at getting one of these, actually. So thank you."

"It's got more memory on it, which we liked. Then you can get more apps and music on it, and not have to worry."

"Well, it's wonderful." There were also a few pictures in it that John had pulled off Facebook. Molly handed him her present next.

"Molly, this is wonderful." It was a digital picture frame, filled with pictures taken by the Yard, John, and Molly. "Thank you." Sherlock and Molly smirked. They decided to skip out on dessert, seeing as there would probably be more than enough desserts at "Ryder's" party. Sherlock was tired of waiting around. He wanted to get there. The Yard's group present had been something Sherlock was willing to do, but what had they done to the finishing touches? It made him anxious.

Finally, they all put on their dressier clothes (Sherlock didn't change, besides putting on a fresh shirt and undershirt) before they climbed into the limo Mycroft loaned them. They got in the back, and Sherlock went to the driver's side to speak momentarily with the driver.

"Is he giving the guy the address?" John asked Molly.

"Yeah, Mycroft hadn't told him, didn't know all the details." Sherlock got in, and sat next to Molly, crossing his legs, and wrapping an arm around her shoulders. Molly's little black dress was doing absolutely nothing good to his body right now. They made small chatter until they arrived thirty minutes later, dates on their arms, and barely contained excitement, although five out of the six had an entirely different reason. Sherlock was only excited because he knew he was close to the end of boring small talk, and a rather boring car ride.

They went inside, and found it dark.

"What in the world?" Sherlock said, as planned.

"Why is it dark in here?" Lestrade asked. The lights flicked on.

"SURPRISE!HAPPY BIRTHDAY, LESTRADE!" Because their eyes hadn't adjusted to the dark, they weren't blinded by the lights.

"What...for me?" Because he was a well-respected and popular DI, there were many people from Scotland Yard's CID present. "Guys, thank you, this is really unexpected."

"You didn't suspect a thing?" Anderson asked.

"No, to be honest." Lestrade said.

"It was Sherlock's idea about the fake gathering at Molly's." John said. "Everyone did the rest." Lestrade grinned, and went to talk to the guests. The DJ started playing music. Sherlock, whose violin was on stage with the DJ, took Molly by the hand, and lead her to the dance floor. They danced for a while. There were rows of chairs, and a stage later. The group had decided that having full meals would be pricey, so if they had everyone bring a dish of finger foods, then they wouldn't need plates, and it would cut down on their costs. The rows of chairs faced a wall, that had a table, holding a laptop and a projector machine on the table. Sherlock and Molly were dancing close, until the DI himself cut in for a dance, and Sherlock had some water.

"No wine, mate?" Brenman asked.

"No, not for a while. Doesn't mix well with the medication I'm on." Sherlock had to take medication for his left knee. He had damaged it recently in a case, and, while minor surgery had fixed it (nothing he wasn't used to, being patched up in minor surgeries), he was in severe pain.

"Too bad. Where's Molly?"

"She's dancing with Lestrade." He said.

"You don't call him Greg." Sherlock shook his head.

"I've known him for almost twenty years. I've never called him Greg." Sherlock said. It made sense to Brenman.

"Well, I'll let you enjoy the party. I'll set up the movie." He walked off. John and Mary were dancing too. Sally got to the DJ stand.

"Greg, I think it's time for gifts." He was with Molly and Megan, and blushing. He went up to the stage to open his small gifts from everyone. Sherlock stood on the stage. After a watch, bottles of wine, books he liked, and a few other odds and ends of things, Lestrade found Sherlock's card.

"Dear Lestrade, thank you for everything you've done for me for all these years. Many happy returns, your friend, Sherlock." He looked at the bottom of the card. "PS...look to your left?" Lestrade looked to the left, and found Sherlock, violin poised, and waiting. Lestrade looked at him in surprise. "Oh." He played a tune, less formal than John and Mary's Wedding concerto, but still as smooth and elegant. Sherlock played and played until he finished the final tune. As everyone clapped (and a few cheered) Sherlock bowed rather politely, and handed Lestrade a frame. It was the piece Sherlock had composed, and just played, but framed. Much like John and Mary's wedding gift. At the top, it said "Ode to a Friend." Sherlock perched his violin on his stand. Lestrade went to shake his hand, thought better of it, and pulled Sherlock into an embrace.

"We've got one more thing." Sally said. There hadn't been quite enough seats, so, while Molly sat on Lestrade's left, and Megan on his right, Sherlock sat on the floor in front of Molly, who massaged his head.

"So, Greg, we all pitched in for this one. We went around and asked everyone we knew that you knew what they thought of you. We broke it up into three groups; Family, friends, and colleagues. We hope you enjoy, from Sherlock, John, Mary, Molly, and the Yard." Sally sat down, and they watched. Across the black screen, in white letters, it read "Family." Someone decided then to shut half the lights off, so it could be seen.

"What do I think of my Dad..." Kyle Lestrade looked thoughtful. "World's greatest father." Lestrade smiled. "He's always been there for me, even when he and Mum split up. He's really come through for me when I didn't know where else to go." The next image was Kelsey Lestrade.

"Daddy...oh, God, what _don't_ I think about my father." Everyone laughed, even Lestrade. "He's funny, and brilliant, and one of...if not _the_ sweetest man I know. He's the number one man in my life, and he always will be. Well, besides Kyle. He's my dad, and I;m his little girl, his princess." Kelsey said. "My Dad could easily be my best friend. Kyle feels the same. Even though he's not married to Mum, he's still kept it all together so we wouldn't see him break down. He's strong and brave, and I wish I could be like that. But, I'm not...so my Daddy will always be there to protect me." Lestrade had tears in his eyes, while everyone else went, _"Awwwww."_

"Greg." Megan said. Everyone laughed. "Oh, Greg. When I first met him, he was yelling at someone for being mean to a little Autistic boy. And, I knew then that he was special. I asked him why he'd defend someone. His answers were that he's a cop, it's his nature...and that it had affected a close friend of his. I knew then, he would be a good guy to try to go after. Even though he was recently divorced, and still crushed, we made it, and got married. His kids are wonderful, and he always makes sure that they are important to his life too." Lestrade blushed, and kissed Megan on the cheek.

"Greg's still a cop, eh?" His brother, Max, was looking at the camera. "Greg was there for me when nobody else wanted to be. He was my friend ever sense we were born. I love him to pieces, he's my brother." Lestrade was grinning. The screen went black again, and this time, across the screen, it read Colleagues.

"He's the best boss I've ever had."

"Amazing."

"Brilliant."

"You can go to him, and he'll always be willing to help." Because there were so many Yarders, they had to cut a lot of what was said, so there were a lot of one word comments.

"Fantastic."

"I think he's wonderful." Sally said to the camera. "I wouldn't be here without him."

"I don't know what the idea was with him hiring Sherlock Holmes." Anderson said. "But, I trust Lestrade, so I guess I have to trust Sherlock." The two looked at one another, and nodded once. It wasn't really a truce, more like...recognition...understanding. After a few more minutes, the screen went black. Then, the words changed. It said.

For friends, we asked how each of them met Greg Lestrade, and what they think of their relationship to him now. The stories were told in confidence, and submitted willingly. Nobody was forced to do this video. The words changed again to Moll Hooper, followed by a picture of the two, arm in arm, at his second wedding. The first video frame was Molly, grinning, and in her flat.

"I met Greg in uni, actually. I was on my way to class, and I was mugged. Someone had called 999 for me, and I kept him there until help arrived. Greg was the only one who made sure I was unharmed. He escorted me to class to explain why I missed to my professor, and we exchanged numbers and everything. We worked together a lot once I got to Barts for pathology. When I found out my father was dying, I was destroyed. I called Greg, and said, 'I could use a friend and an ear' and he just said, 'come on over, Lucy and I'll listen.'" Lucy was Greg's ex-wife. "I was the first one he went to when he broke up with Lucy. Honestly, he's the brother I'll never have. People think we've dated or we should, and I'm just like, 'Ew, that's like kissing my brother.'" Everyone laughed. "I'm glad though, that we met. Without him, I'd be rather lonely." The name across the screen said "Doctor John Watson." It had a picture of them, dressed in tux's on John's wedding day. Sherlock was in the background, talking to his mother. The frame showed John sitting in a conference room at the Yard.

"I met Greg literally the day after I met Sherlock. And he was a bit reluctant to let me help Sherlock with his case, but it was necessary. In the end, we wound up saving Sherlock's life." John said. "He was there when Sherlock 'died.' And he talked me out of a suicide attempt after my PTSD kicked in worse than ever." Sherlock hadn't known John himself had tried suicide. "He stuck by me. And I'll never be able to repay him for the life he helped me to continue." The next name read "Sherlock Holmes." It was followed by a picture of Sherlock, Lestrade, and John, all clad in tuxedo's, waiting for John's wedding to start. Several people cat called, and a few wolf-whistled. All three men blushed.

"I met Lestrade when I was...actually, I was fifteen." Sherlock said. "I had gotten into legal trouble. Well, no, I was actually beaten up by some school bullies, and he was the one, although we didn't figure it out till the other day that we'd met sooner, who rescued me. I had a broken nose, several ribs popped out of place or broken, which severely constricted my breathing, enough to make me pass out, and I had inhaled and coughed up blood from my broken nose. I was a mess of bruises and blood, and I had passed out. He stayed with my family until they had patched me up in the ER, and I was sent home." Sherlock said. He looked thoughtful. "It was a miracle he was sent to rescue me, because if not for him, Malcolm Flynn would have literally beaten the life out of me. Not to say that he didn't try later." Sherlock looked up at the voice behind the camera. The subtitles said _What would make Malcolm try again and again. _"He's a bully, and bullies don't like being beaten. I'm Autistic, so I was always bullied. Even in grade school. I didn't know how to interact with others, and they assumed, because I come from a wealthy family, that I was under the impression that I was better than them. Except that I wanted nothing more than to be able to play with them.

"After a while, I was seeing an amazing girl by the name Kirsty Jonas. She was beautiful, smart, and, most importantly, she stood up for me. Like my cousin Roger and his girlfriend Anna Thompson, they were the only ones to really protect me in school.

"When I was ninteen, Kirsty didn't come home one night. I'd been in a good mood, and I was planning on engaging her in our small apartment area thing my parents had built on when Mycroft and I got too old for tree houses and pirates. We each had our own, and Kirsty and I lived together in one. She wasn't there, which was unusual." Sherlock said. "She was supposed to go out with friends, and she never had come home. I went all night looking for her around London. Suddenly, I get this call on my mobile." Sherlock said. "It was a voice saying, 'Sherlock Holmes, this is Detective Lestrade, we need you down here at The Regent's Park. You're...' then, I heard a female voice say, 'If I don't see you before I'm gone, this is goodbye.'" Sherlock paused. "I've never ran so fast in my entire life. When I got there, she had already died, and I was devastated. I never got to ask her to marry me that night.

"I got into drugs, and self harm, and depression. A lot of the decisions I was forced to make made it all worse." Sherlock, who had not been wearing a suit jacket in his clip, unbuttoned the cuffs on his sleeve to his right arm, and rolled it back. "Here's where I was cutting open my wrist with a chemistry tool." There were scars, white, and faded. "A lot of people...actually, only my brother and Lestrade know this part." Sherlock said. "But, I even tried suicide. I was so into drugs, that, in a matter of five years, I was arrested for possession four times. Finally, with Mycroft's help, Lestrade got me into therapy, and rehab. I was clean, and released. I decided then, that being a consulting detective would help me avenge the death of my beloved Kirsty." Sherlock went quite. "Lestrade pulled me out of life threatening depression. He's..." Sherlock thought for a moment. "More than a friend." Lestrade and Sherlock looked at one another, and smiled. The screen read Mycroft Holmes, and a picture followed from Sherlock's parent's home. Mycroft and Sherlock were sitting on the couch, talking.

"I met Greg when Sherlock had gotten himself beaten up by a bully. Again." Mycroft said. "We never talked again after that, until Sherlock lost Kirsty, and he was getting into drugs, and depression. He saved Sherlock's life." Mycroft said. "That's not something you forget easily. Or repay. He does a lot of good for his country, and he's definitely done wonders to try and put Sherlock back together. Sherlock isn't what he used to be." Mycroft said. "But he's better and stronger than ever. And I have Gregory Lestrade to thank for that." Across the screen, it read _The End._ Everyone clapped, some cheered, and Lestrade stood up. Sherlock, who was a bit stiff from sitting on the ground, also stood. Because he was clapping, everyone thought Sherlock was giving Lestrade a standing ovation, and they followed. Sherlock reached out and shook Lestrade's hand. They both looked at it, at each other, then embraced.

Even the most sociopathic people can have true friends...


	19. The Tenderness

October was suddenly November, and Sherlock was oblivious to the looming Christmas season, because he was absolutely swamped with a pile of cases filling his email inbox, and every text message Lestrade sent. Sherlock sifted through them, and found that people had decided to be interesting, despite the fact that he was trying to be a decent father, and trying to be a decent boyfriend, on top of Lestrade pressuring him to take a permanent position at the Yard (they were paying him, and he was there often enough anyway) and deciding if going home for Christmas was even an option. There was a lot on his plate, so when Molly came to 221B, and sat on the sofa, Sherlock immediately stretched out, and laid his head in her lap. When she massaged through it, he groaned.

"You okay?"

"My head is throbbing." Sherlock grumbled. Jonah was in his bedroom, working on his math homework. Sherlock hadn't said five words to the poor boy sense he'd been home. He felt rather guilty, but he knew Jonah was enjoying his self-discoveries as of late, and he wasn't too upset by the lack of attention from Sherlock. Most of the summer, it seemed, Sherlock was home. So they did more. Jonah was teaching himself how to play violin (his request, to Sherlock's great surprise) and how to draw. He could also sing rather impressively for a seven year old, and Sherlock didn't regret one bit getting Jonah the drawing kit he had asked for as a birthday gift. In fact, Sherlock's fridge, a bedroom wall, and Jonah's walls were covered in pictures Jonah had, rather impressively, drawn himself. Molly noted that the house looked like father and son had lived there.

"Too many cases?" She asked. The silence she was greeted with was more than enough confirmation. Molly continued her ministrations on Sherlock's scalp. He looked more relaxed. "Feel better?"

"You have no idea." He mumbled, his eyes closed. Jonah came into the living room, and sat on the floor. He was silent, and tears clearly stained his face.

"Jonah, honey, you okay?" Molly asked. Sherlock didn't sit up, he just opened his eyes, and turned his head.

"Jonah, what is it?" Jonah looked really heartbroken.

"I think my friend is in trouble." He whispered. Sherlock sat up.

"Which one?"

"Clementine." He said, tears running down his cheeks again. "She's always got bruises on her, and she doesn't look like she eats enough, and she's afraid of everyone." Sherlock, his head void of any other case, was thinking faster than normal.

"She's the one John lives by." Molly said. Jonah nodded.

"But...I broke her promise. She said I couldn't tell anybody. But, Daddy, I'm scared. She could die with them!" Sherlock scooped Jonah up, and held him in his arms. They stood there for a long time. He then sat Jonah next to Molly, pulled on his coat and scarf, and ran outside.

Two hours later, a very smug Sherlock came in. "Figured it out."

"What?"

"How to get her out." Jonah perked up.

"You did?"

"And she's going to live in a safe home, closer to your school, and even us." Jonah jumped into Sherlock's arms, and clung to him.

"You're the best Dad." Jonah was all smiles, even when he was asleep, and Sherlock went in to check on him.

"You're a great Dad, Sherlock." Molly said. Sherlock didn't say anything, he just smiled. She kissed Sherlock's jaw and leaned on him. "Love you."

"I love you too." Sherlock said quietly. They were sitting in the living room. "Molly...why did you turn me down the other night?"

"For one, you have a son who really didn't need to see that." She said. "And, for too, because Sherlock Moriarty came very close to raping me." Sherlock tensed. He knew she had been hurt by hi...but not that bad. "Fortunately, when I dialed 999, he ran, and Greg was there." Sherlock was frozen.

"Molly, love, if I had any idea..." She was holding tightly to Sherlock.

"It's okay. Because I've never felt safer than I have with you." She whispered.

"You have another reason." Sherlock didn't know how else to react to her statement.

"I want to wait. Call me old fashioned, but I think sex is for married couples."

"Well, I've already made that mistake once, you can bet I'll never do it again." Sherlock said. "Because...this time around, I'd like to do it right." Molly knew better than anyone else Sherlock knew what that was like.

"Well, I'm glad we're in agreement." Molly said. Sherlock's head was pounding again, so he laid down on the sofa. Molly, this time, snuggled in his arms in front of him. The couple had spooned together, and, before they knew it, they were both asleep, Molly, because it was late, and Sherlock, from not sleeping sense last Tuesday.

The next morning, Mrs. Hudson came to check on them. Fortunately, it was Saturday, so Jonah could sleep in. Mrs. Hudson thought it was unsusually quiet, because she knew Sherlock had been absolutely swamped with cases. She found Sherlock and Molly curled around each other on the sofa, a light duvet thrown over them. Jonah was eating cereal, and looking at Mrs. Hudson.

"I didn't want to wake them." He said quietly.

"No, of course not. Your father needs some sleep." Jonah went with Mrs. Hudson, and brought his drawing kit. He wanted to make her some pictures, and he set about drawing. He was there for the better part of the day.

Meanwhile, after finally getting some decent rest, Sherlock finished quite a few of the simpler cases, and was done with them by the time dinner rolled around. Because John was out with Mary for the day, Molly, who was off, helped him. Sherlock went inside, and began making dinner. Molly helped, and discovered that Sherlock was an amazing cook.

After dinner, Sherlock sat down with Jonah, and read a story to him. After he read, he carried a sleeping Jonah to bed, and found Molly asleep on the sofa. She hadn't been home in days, besides to change and shower, and was exhausted. Instead of sending her home, Sherlock smiled, changed, grabbed the warm duvet off his bed, and spooned in behind Molly.

He'd never slept better.

The person to next discover them was Lestrade. He had a cold case for Sherlock, but was stopped by Jonah whispering "Shhhh." Lestrade looked inside, and found Sherlock, wrapped around Molly, and asleep. Lestrade had only seen Sherlock do that one other time. Mycroft had shown him a photograph of Sherlock curled around Kirsty like that.

"Tell him I stopped by." Lestrade said, leaving quietly.

But not without snapping a photo on his phone.

Sherlock and Molly were in the Barts lab, when Anderson and Lestrade came over. Sherlock was staring intently into a microscope, while Molly was writing up her report from the latest autopsy. Lestrade stopped Anderson, and they silently shut the door. Sherlock was so intent on his work, that he had failed to notice their company. Which was just fine with them. Anderson pulled out his Flip Video Camera, and turned it on. He pressed record. For five minutes, they sat there in silence.

"Molly, could you get the test results from the printer?" Sherlock asked. She did, barely reaching over from her spot at the lab table, and stretching slightly across the table to hand them over to Sherlock. He read through them, and frowned in concentration. Molly was rubbing her neck, and looking increasingly frustrated. Sherlock, who had heard her sigh four times in the last five minutes, looked up to tell her she was distracting, then realized she was stressed far to much for her liking. Sherlock laid the report down, and smirked. He stood, and slowly walked around the lab table. He had noticed his company a long time ago, and had an idea that would benefit the two of them.

"Molly, we've got company, and we are being recorded." Sherlock's voice was barely a whisper in her ear. "I want you to follow my lead." She shivered, and looked at him. Sherlock leaned in, and pressed his lips to hers. They were full out snogging, when Mike Stamford walked in.

"I'll come back later..." He said, backing out, and looking mortified. Sherlock broke the kiss, grinned rather devilishly, and leaned in closer to her.

"We're going to give them something to record." Sherlock said in her ear. Sherlock pulled away, and reached across the table, finding his mobile. He picked it up, and scrolled through his rather extensive play list, filled with classics and his own composed work. He came across one written by by Dustin O'Halloran. It was entiled "We Move Lightly." Sherlock had taken a liking to his compositions. He turned u the volume full last on his iPhone, and set in on the table.

"I like this. It's beautiful." She said, smiling.

"May I have this dance, Molly Hooper?" Most people didn't call their girlfriends by their full names, but Molly found she liked the way it rolled off his tongue. She wrapped her arms around his neck, and he pulled her in close, wrapping his arms around her waist, and slowly rotating her around the lab. She snuggled her face into his chest, and smiled. After a moment, she leaned up and kissed his jaw.

"I love you." She said.

"And I love you." Sherlock said. He was looking at nothing in particular, clearly enjoying himself. He had no cases, and his experiment with blood and paint samples. After a moment, he forgot about everyone but Molly swaying in his arms They danced through another thirty seconds of the song, before Molly giggled.

"Do you think they've realized we're only trying to mess with them?" She had deliberately said it loud enough for Anderson and Lestrade to hear. They groaned, and Sherlock and Molly laughed, Sherlock holding onto her as he laughed.

"We just wanted to get the report from the Burton case."

"Sure." Molly walked off, slipping out of Sherlock's arms. Instead of turning off the music, he went back to his spot at the microscope. The next song that came on had actual lyrics, and he began to sing along.

_**Love me tender, love me sweet.**_

_**Never let me go.**_

_**You have made my life complete,**_

_**and I love you so.**_

It took them a moment to realize that, not only was Sherlock actually singing (and quite beautifully, Molly added) that it was an Elvis song. Molly wondered what made him put an Elvis song on his plethora of classical pieces, but then...why did Sherlock do half the things he did?

Lestrade watched intently as Sherlock continued, unaware that he was being watched, with his experiment. He worked at filing away the data he needed, as he continued on with the beautiful, deep tones of his singing voice.

_**Love me tender, love me true,**_

_**All my dreams fulfilled.**_

_**For my darlin' I love you,**_

_**And I always will.**_

_**Love me tender, love me long,**_

_**Take me to your heart.**_

_**For it's there that I belong,**_

_**And we'll never part.**_

_**Love me tender, love me dear,**_

_**Tell me you are mine.**_

_**I'll be yours through all the years,**_

_**Till the end of time.**_

_**When at last my dreams come true,**_

_**Darling this I know.**_

_**Happiness will follow you,**_

_**Everywhere you go.**_

Sherlock finished, hitting the note quite perfectly, and looked up to not only find that they were watching him quite intently, but that Mycroft had slipped in.

"It's important, you never just show up unless I'm at Baker Street." Sherlock said, grabbing his coat, and pulling it on.

"It's not a case." Sherlock took in his brother's ghost-white face, serious beyond normal (for Mycroft) facial expression, and uncertainy and pain filling his eyes.

"Then what?" Sherlock asked, very afraid of what Sherlock's answer would be.

"There's been a break in at Holmes Estate."

Sherlock entered the foyer, not bothering to greet Alfonso except with, "Where is she?"

"The family room, Mr. Sherlock." Sherlock ran in the general direction. Lestrade followed, greeting the butler, and heading after Sherlock's coat. Anderson and Donovan ran after them. Molly followed suit. Lestrade, Anderson, Donovan, and Molly caught up with Sherlock just as he entered the room. Roger was already there. Mrs. Holmes looked up, and burst into tears at the sight of Sherlock. He moved quickly around the officers and went towards his mother. She clung to him in complete fear.

"What happened, Mummy?" Sherlock asked. "Did they take anything?"

"No, but..." She sobbed. "They tried to shoot your father." Sherlock froze, and pulled her away.

"Where is he?"

"Kitchen." Sherlock bolted in that direction, grabbing Molly who followed him. They went into the kitchen, and found Mr. Holmes, looking pale, sporting a black eye, and visibly shaken. He was holding a tumbler of whiskey, and the hand holding it shook.

"Father." Sherlock said.

"Son." His voice was tense, strangled. "How is your mother?"

"I'm more worried about you at the moment. She's just crying, you're..." Worse...

"Good. She's crying." It sounded harsh to those who didn't know the family well, but Sherlock got it; She's only crying, nothing worse.

"Mr. Holmes-"

"Please." He said, stopping her with his empty, equally shaky left hand. "Call me James, Molly."

"Er...all right, James. Look, James, if there's anything we can do..." Mr. Holmes laughed shakily.

"What could I need from you? Maybe medical attention for shock? Look Molly, it's sweet, really, but we'll be all right. There was nothing taken. The French doors to the back yard are shattered, but we're all right other wise. We don't need anything." Molly didn't believe him, and went over to Sherlock's father, and hugged him. He was surprised, but hugged her back. "Actually, that did help, thank you." Molly smiled, and turned to an agitated Sherlock.

"Go, Sherlock." Molly said. He was visibly shaken himself, and worried beyond belief. He was also trying not to show it. "Your mum needs you." Sherlock went in, and found his mother sobbing on a lost-looking Mycroft. Sherlock went to her, and crouched in front of her.

"Mummy." He said gently. "Would you feel better if Molly and I stayed for the night? I'll have John bring Jonah up."

"No." Roger said. "If they try it again, they could harm or traumatize him. I'll keep him for the weekend so you can stay here." Sherlock nodded.

"Sweetheart, thank you." She pulled her son into another hug. He soothed her for a moment. He went into the foyer, and found Mycroft looking a bit worse for wear. He knew his brother had been unwell for a few days now. Lestrade was talking to him in concern.

"You don't have to stay, Mycroft." Sherlock said. "I'll be here." Mycroft didn't argue. That worried Sherlock. Mycroft always argued.

"You need anything?" Sherlock pulled his key to Baker Street out.

"Clothes. I'm assuming you have a key to Molly's flat?"

"Of course."

"We'll need clothes." Lestrade nodded. "Thank you." Anderson came into the foyer, followed by Donovan.

"What's all going on?" Anderson asked. "Did anything get taken?"

"No, but they tried to shoot my father." Sherlock said, pacing, looking agitated again. Not only did this situation bother him, Mycroft not arguing had too. He was getting another head ache.

"What is it?" Lestrade asked. Sherlock shook his head, and didn't answer. Molly came in.

"Your dad's worried about Mycroft."

"I'm worried to. He hasn't tried to annoy me in a week." Sherlock said. "Normally, he goes a day without bothering me." Sherlock was pacing again. Molly watched him for a moment.

"Look Sherlock, he'll be fine. He's got a high-stress job, it's probably catching up to him lately." Molly said. Sherlock had to admit, she was right. "Come on, the cops are leaving, and we need to find a way to calm down your mother." Sherlock nodded once, and went into the living room. Lestrade grabbed Molly.

"Text me if anything else goes wrong." He said. Molly nodded, and followed him.

Later that night, they sat around, looking rather stressed. Mr. Holmes suddenly left, and came back with an accoustic guitar. They were sitting in the living room, warming by the fire. Mr. Holmes sat down, and tuned his guitar. Mrs. Holmes had gone to the bathroom.

"When your mother comeback back, we can cheer her up, okay?" Sherlock nodded. "The usual all right?" Sherlock nodded again. Mrs. Holmes came back in.

"Come, sit down, Mummy." Sherlock said. She sat, and Mr. Holmes began playing a tune Molly recognized all too well. Sherlock's solo voice rose above the sounds of the guitar.

_**Edelweiss, edelweiss,**_

_**Ev'ry morning you greet me.**_

_**Small and white,**_

_**Clean and bright,**_

_**You look happy to meet me.**_

_**Blossom of snow,**_

_**May you bloom and grow,**_

_**Bloom and grow forever.**_

_**Edelweiss, edelweiss,**_

_**Bless my homeland forever.**_

Molly, who had grown up in love with The Sound of Music, decided to join him in his singing. She swallowed the slight nerves, and took a calming breath, before joining in with Sherlock's beautiful voice.

_**Small and white, **_

_**Clean and bright,**_

_**you look happy to meet me.**_

_**Blossom of snow,**_

_**May you bloom and grow,**_

_**Bloom and grow forever.**_

_**Edelweiss, edelweiss,**_

_**Bless my homeland forever.**_

Sherlock looked at Molly in surprise. She smiled at him.

"You have an incredible voice, Sherlock." She said. His face turned a light shade of pink.

"Thank you, Molly." He was quiet for a moment. "I didn't know you were a talented singer yourself." She flushed. He smiled gently at her. "I enjoyed it." He was standing next to his father, and she was right next to him, sitting on the couch. He leaned in, and pressed his lips gently to her forehead.

Behind him, his teary-eyed parents exchanged a smile.


	20. The Attack

Sherlock sat in the cold, uncomfortable chair in the St. Barts waiting room. Molly was holding his hand. John looked worried. Lestrade was on John's other side. Mr. and Mrs. Holmes were no longer crying, they were just pale, scared, and worried.

It had been a long day. And it started with the most terrifying visit from Sherlock's nephew.

Sherlock had been in Scotland Yard, discussing the possibility of a new case. Sherlock opened his mouth, when a familiar voice called out, "Uncle Sherlock." Sherlock turned to find Archie looking at him. He was happy to see his nephew, until he realized that Archie was terrified.

"Archie, what is it?"

"It's Dad. I came from my uni classes. Dad had a heart attack." Sherlock went pale, and clutched the nearest desk, which was Anderson's empty desk. He'd called in because of the flu.

"Let's go, in the police car." Sherlock ran to Lestrade's car, with Archie and John following him. He used his lights to get them there.

And now they sat, and waited. Lucinda had been allowed to wait closer to the room, but she was alone, and sat in the empty chair next to Sherlock. She nudged him. He looked at her.

"You okay?" Sherlock nodded, although he really wasn't. They may act like they can't stand one another, but they're still brothers. And they still love each other, even if they don't admit it. "He's going to be all right. We caught it in enough time." It had still worried Sherlock to no end. Sherlock doesn't worry about people, but Mycroft was one who didn't usually get _this_ sick. He went to the doctor's fixed himself up. This time he didn't. A doctor came into the room.

"He's well enough for visitors. Mrs. Holmes?" Lucinda shook her head.

"Sherlock, you go." She said. Archie was in the food court, forcing himself to eat by his mother's wishes. Sherlock stood, and followed the doctor to the room.

"Listen, Mr. Holmes...your brother died twice. It was very serious. Please, don't excite him." Sherlock nodded, and went in. He found Mycroft, looking gray, exhausted, and worse than Lestrade after his divorce.

"Brother." Sherlock said, the normally cold tone gone, replaced with a childlike worry. One he developed whenever Mycroft was to sick to hang out when they were smaller.

"Sherlock?" Mycroft croaked. "Where's Lucinda? Archie? Are they-" Sherlock stopped him.

"Lucinda had Archie try to eat, and she asked me to go first." Sherlock said. Mycroft nodded, and Sherlock sat down. "Why didn't you check with your doctor?"

"I was under a lot of stress at work, Sherlock." Mycroft had never looked so vulnerable to Sherlock. Even when he'd sobbed at Sherlock's funeral. "I couldn't take any time off." Sherlock was silent. Lucinda and Archie came in.

"Dad." Archie said, hugging him.

"I'm all right, son." He said. "I'm all right." That had been the first real father-son moment Sherlock had seen with his brother and nephew. Sherlock and Lucinda looked at one another, and back at Mycroft and Archie. Archie was looking worried. "The doctor said I'll be able to go home in a few days, Archibald, don't worry." It was the first time Archie had ever protested his father's use for his full first name. Sherlock put his hands on Archie's shoulders.

"Come on, Archie. We'll give your parents a moment alone." They went into the waiting room, and sent Sherlock's parents in there.

"How is he?" John asked.

"He's been better." Sherlock said. Archie looked miserable.

"I wish we had known sooner he was unwell. He looked pale, but he never seemed too sick." Archie said. Roger reached over, and patted Archie gently on the back. "I hate that he doesn't complain."

"It's a character flaw of his." Sherlock said. "He's always been that way." Archie didn't respond. "Look, Archie, it's not your fault. He didn't look well the last time I saw him. That should have raised the alarm right there that something was wrong."

"But, we could have done something! Mum and I were with him all weekend. That should have been the clue, he was actually _home_ for the weekend." Archie was leaning forward on his knees. After a moment, he dropped his face in his hands. Sherlock and Roger looked at each other in concern, before Archie shot out of his seat, and walked away. He slouched off, skinny jeans sagging, high tops scraping the floor, and white t-shirt making his black jeans stand out.

"Ar-" Molly stopped him.

"Sherlock, he's a teenage boy. He doesn't want his uncle hanging around while he cries." Suddenly Sherlock's mobile vibrated. He pulled it from his pocket.

_Don't follow me. _

Sherlock sat down, in his normal thinking position. There was a lot to think about. A lot.


	21. The Christmas

Snow was falling from the sky, and the sky was still looking inky black. It was five in the morning, but that didn't stop Jonah from tackling Sherlock dead on and shouting, "Daddy, it's Christmas!" Sherlock groaned, and sat up.

"Jonah, why did you tackle me?"

"Because it's Christmas!" Jonah shouted. "It's our first Christmas together." Sherlock wondered when Jonah would realize it was also his first Christmas without his mother. Sherlock wasn't sure how much they did for Christmas, but he decided that it hadn't mattered. He would make this Jonah's best Christmas.

They got up, and Sherlock made pancakes and bacon. Molly, John, and Mary would be joining them, and later they were going to Holmes Estate. Mrs. Hudson came up to join them for breakfast. They ate, and laughed. Sherlock decided it was an amazing Christmas already. Sherlock and and Mrs. Hudson watched Jonah open his presents. There were a few from Sherlock and Mrs. Hudson. Jonah got a few more cars, a large array of coloring materials for his drawing set, paper to add to his drawing set, a sketch book, and a few items of clothes.

"Thank you, Dad." Sherlock smiled. When Jonah climbed up into his lap, Sherlock held him close.

"You're welcome." They held onto each other, and Mrs. Hudson smiled.

"I got you something Dad." Jonah said, looking up from Sherlock's chest.

"What do you mean?"

"Mrs. Hudson took me out last week." Jonah padded up the stairs, and went into his bedroom. He came back with a small box. Sherlock wondered what it was filled with. Sherlock took the present, and put it on the coffee table. He went into the kitchen, then his bedroom. He came back with a box. Jonah grinned.

"You forgot about Mrs. Hudson's present, son." Sherlock said. Jonah giggled, and Sherlock handed her the box. She smiled and blushed.

"Oh, Sherlock." She said. Mrs. Hudson giggled. "You didn't have to do this for me."

"Oh, but I did." Sherlock said, kissing her cheek and sitting down. He opened the box, and found a shiny new magnifying glass. It was an exact replica of the old one, but the glass wasn't scratched, it was in one piece (he had broke it in a fight on his last case) and it was a bit bigger, wider. Sherlock also found a pocket knife to match, his name engraved in the handle.

"Jonah, this is..." Sherlock had been telling John he needed a new pocket knife, but he hadn't realized Jonah had overheard. His son was _supposed_ to be in bed. Sherlock looked at Mrs. Hudson and watched her face light up when she found the necklace, the book, and the iPod, complete with noise-canceling headphones, and a playlist of all her favorites. She got excited, and stood up to hug him. Jonah hugged her too.

"Boys, this is sweet."

"Wait, I have another one!" Jonah ran off to his room, and ran back in. "Here!" It was a picture of a flower, with so much detail that a professional artist would be impressed.

"Oh, Jonah, this is beautiful." Mrs. Hudson said. "You boys are the sweetest." After a few more minutes, Mrs. Hudson went to change. They were all still in their pajamas. After quick showers, and putting on clean clothes, Sherlock and Jonah were dressed, and were ready for guests. By the time that John, Mary, and Lucy had come over, Sherlock was cooking lunch. They were soon joined by Molly, Lestrade, and Megan.

"Merry Christmas!" Lestrade said, coming into the kitchen.

"Merry Christmas, Lestrade." Sherlock said. Jonah ran up to Lucy and hugged her. Mrs. Hudson came up to join them. John hugged her.

"Mrs. Hudson." John said warmly, kissing her cheek. "We got you a little something." John gave her a flat package. Sherlock came to see what it was. She opened it, and laughed.

"John, dear, this is sweet. Thank you." John hugged her warmly.

"Not a problem." Sherlock looked at what she was holding. It was a sign for her door that read "Landlady, not a housekeeper." Sherlock laughed.

"Fits perfectly." He said. Sherlock noted that she had his gift on her neck already.

"You going to see your parents for Christmas?" John asked.

"We're heading out at about four." Sherlock said. "We've been up a bit early, Jonah decided it was a good idea to tackle me this morning to get me out of bed for Christmas." Jonah giggled.

"I was excited." He said. His tone wasn't as excited, but he was smiling. Sherlock rumpled the boy's hair. Molly touched Sherlock's arm, and kissed his cheek. Sherlock kissed her.

"Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas, Molly Hooper." She giggled, remembering the last time they stood in that room, Sherlock uttering the very same words. Sherlock chuckled his deep, baritone laugh, and smirked. He kissed her again, and walked away at the sound of a buzzer. Sherlock put lunch on the table, and they ate the best lasagna any of them had ever eaten. Afterwords, they exchanged their gifts. Surprisingly, Sherlock and Molly hadn't handed each other anything, unless they were passing it on from somewhere else. From John, Sherlock got a new box of slides, and Jonah got a racing track for his cars. From Lestrade, Sherlock got a picture of Molly and Sherlock asleep on the couch. For Lestrade's mobile, it was a pretty decent picture. It had a frame to protect it. Sherlock immediately took it to the mantle, and set it there. Molly blushed, and shook her head at Greg. For Jonah, Lestrade got him a toy cop set. Jonah loved it, and immediately begged Sherlock to open it so he could play around with it. Sherlock rolled his eyes, but obliged.

At four, Mrs. Hudson Sherlock, Molly, and Jonah, carrying overnight bags, went off to the family party. Sherlock was greeted by the driver to a limo Mycroft had sent. They clambered in, away from the cold, and chatted the entire way to Holmes Estate. Once they got there, they took their bags to their rooms, and went into the family room. Roger, Archie, Mr. and Mrs. Holmes, Anna, and Sally sat, waiting.

"Oh, goody, you're all here! Oh, Irma!" Mrs. Holmes gushed, hugging Mrs. Hudson.

"Oh, Sandra, how are you?"

"Fantastic." They talked a bit, before a very aged Mycroft walked into the room, and eased himself into a chair. Before, Mycroft had looked his age, albeit a receding hairline. Now, he looked sixty, when he was Lestrade's age.

"Mycroft." Molly said. "How are you feeling?"

"Better than I have been, Molly. And yourself?" The Holmes chivalry, never failing to be polite, even when it was Sherlock, who was rude (unintentionally so) to everyone.

"I'm wonderful." She sat uncertainly next to him. "You back at work, yet?"

"Yes, although they've taken some of my duties to lessen my workload. It's rather nice, actually." Molly giggled. Lucinda sat on Mycroft's other side. Sherlock was talking with his parents.

"He's different around you." She said. Molly knew that. "It's not a bad thing either. How much he loves you. He's gotten better at case solving." Molly knew that. He seemed stronger.

"Sherlock's stronger, happier."

"Certainly healthier too. Especially sense he feeds Jonah now." Mycroft said. Archie and Jonah were drawing on the floor. Well...they had paper, they weren't literally drawing on the floor, but I'm sure you understood that.

"Sherlock." Mrs. Hudson said. He turned to her, and followed her gaze. She was watching the boys draw. He crouched down to look.

"May I?" Archie looked up, and nodded. He found the drawing to be a replica of Sherlock and Mrs. Holmes talking. "Archie, this is impressive."

"Thank you." Archie said, blushing. "It's just something I do in my spare time." Sherlock watched them draw for a minute, before getting up to join Molly, Mycroft, and Lucinda. They decided then to exchange gifts. For Mycroft, Sherlock got a new briefcase, as his had fallen apart. For Lucinda, it was a beautiful locket, and for Archie it was blank music scores, books of sheet music, and guitar picks. Archie was in a band with some friends. He played the guitar, and was lead singer. Sherlock supported his musical interests, being a violin player himself. For his parents, he found them a giant frame for pictures, but on the frame there were several places to put a normal sized picture in. There was a picture of Sherlock and Mycroft, Sherlock, Mycroft, and their parents, Sherlock and Jonah, Mycroft, Lucinda, and Archie, Sherlock, Kirsty, Callum, and Lily, and Roger, Anna, and Sally (they viewed Roger as their son, even before Roger;s parents died).

"Oh, Sherlock, this is amazing." Mrs. Hudson gushed. Mr. Holmes smiled at it in content.

"Thank you, son." Sherlock smiled. For Roger, Sherlock found an old stack of photographs of the two of them, Kirsty, and Anna. He realized a good portion of the pictures had doubles, and he made an album of those pictures. The title on the cover read "Past Memories Made" and was filled with pictures from their visits after Sherlock had been beaten up by the class bully, to the end, a few days before Kirsty was murdered. Anna had received two much smaller, untitled albums, filled with pictures of just her and Kristy, and one with her and Roger. Although they had been friends, they never had pictures of just them.

"Roger, look." They looked at a picture they had taken at a formal school dance. Sherlock had secretly snapped the picture when they weren't looking.

"I remember that." They looked at every picture, and looked to Sherlock.

"Thank you." They said. Sherlock inclined his head once, and they all understood. Everyone continued on with their parents. There was down time before dinner, so Molly and Sherlock made their way out to Saint Peter's cemetery, this time leaving Jonah to play with Sally. Sherlock stopped by a florists shop, and bought a wreath. They made their way to the grave site, and Sherlock leaned it against the gravestone.

"Merry Christmas, Kirsty." Sherlock whispered, before standing to meet Molly. She wrapped her arms around him, and held on tight. He joined her shortly.

"Sherlock?" He turned around to find Mr. and Mrs. Jonas coming towards them.

"Merry Christmas." Sherlock said.

"Merry Christmas." Mr. and Mrs. Jonas each hugged Sherlock, then Molly, before putting their flowers on Kirsty's grave.

"We were hoping to come by later." Mr. and Mrs. Jonas said. "Your parents invited us for eggnog, I hope you don't mind."

"Not at all." Sherlock said. Molly held his hand. "We'll just have to be gentle with Mycroft."

"How is he?" Mrs. Jonas asked.

"Unwell, he had a heart attack back in October."

"Oh, the poor dear. Is he all right?" Sherlock nodded.

"He's home more, which Archie is relieved about." Sherlock said. Mr. Jonas smiled sadly.

"Seems sad, that we're having a happy reunion at a grave site." Sherlock nodded.

"We're doing it because Kirsty would have wanted it." Sherlock said quietly. Mr. Jonas nodded.

"You're probably right." He said. Sherlock and Mr. Jonas approached closer, and looked at the headstone. It was looking a bit grimy, and would have to be cleaned once the snow melted the winter into spring.

"She always loved Christmas." Sherlock said.

"She did." Mr. Jonas laughed. "Remember the time she gave you a condom box for Christmas, only it turned out to be a watch inside." Sherlock laughed.

"I still have that watch. It works and everything." Sherlock said, laughing. "Remember when Roger gave her a VHS tape, disguised as a porno." They both laughed. "Where he got the cover, I couldn't fathom."

"Myself either." Mr. Jonas said. Sherlock looked across the cemetery in the general direction of his grandparents grave sites. Roger's parents were buried with them.

"How is Roger doing these days?"

"Marvelous. He and Anna have a daughter now. She's Jonah's age."

"Oh, do they?" Sherlock showed him a picture from his iPhone of Jonah and Sally playing. "She's a cutie."

"She's the only kid Jonah's age. I wish they lived closer." Sherlock said. "It would make their play dates more convenient for both of us." Mr. Jonas laughed.

"I'll bet." Sherlock was silent for a moment, before he turned to Molly. "We better go. I wanted to stop by and check up on my grandparent's and Roger's parents." Mr. Jonas nodded, and they bade goodbye. Sherlock and Molly, holding hands, walked passed the head stones, and made it to where Sherlock's kin were buried. Sherlock crouched down in front of Roger's parents, and touched the snow in front of the head stone, in remembrance.

"Roger's parents." He explained to Molly. "They were the only survivors of a plane crash, and died of their injuries later in the hospital. Roger was sixteen."

"That's horrible." Sherlock nodded.

"He moved in with us. Roger was devastated. He was as close to his parents and Mycroft and I are to ours. He's like me, he still refers to his mother as 'Mummy.'" Sherlock looked at the ground. "Roger's brother is another story."

"Roger has a brother?"

"Yes. He's heading one of the secret organizations that MI5 are trying to take down, according to Mycroft. Roger hasn't spoken to his brother in years. We have no idea why he doesn't show up anymore." Sherlock said. "He never did like us. Because Eric was eighteen, he could live on his own. But he was already in legal trouble, so my parents took him in. Roger is almost a brother to me. At times, he's more a brother to me than Mycroft." Sherlock touched each grave stone, and moved a few steps over. "These are my grandparents. My mum's parents. My grandfather died when I was ten. I don't remember him much." Sherlock said. "And my grandmother had cancer. I'm not sure what Grandfather died of. It may have been a heart attack. He was around my father's age when he died. I believe Mummy said that he had a heart attack at Mycroft's age as well, although I'm not completely certain." Sherlock had never weaseled the full story from his mother. When Grandfather first died, she was heartbroken. Now, it just seemed silly to ask. "I wonder if I could get the answers from Mycroft." Sherlock mused out loud. "And over here is my Mum's only sister. She died when I was fifteen. She had breast cancer." Sherlock said. "Didn't like her much, she was rather...abusive to my mother growing up." Molly found it endearing that Sherlock was still overprotective of his mother, even at thirty-five. "Mummy's brother is still alive, but he lives in Morocco, so we don't see him much." Molly was interested in Sherlock's family. "What about your family?"

"I don't have much family. Mum's my only living next of kin. My father's only sister was a still born, and neither of them have any other siblings. My grnadparents were all dead before I was born.

"That would be a nice family party. You wouldn't have too many family and your girlfriend can't pronounce the majority of their names."

"Because your family likes weird names?" Molly hadn't meant to say it out loud, and looked mortified. Sherlock smirked, which made it better.

"Well, partially that. But also because my family lives all over the world." Sherlock said. "My Uncle Obadiah lives in Morocco, and his wife is from Morocco. She plus her children all have Moroccan names. I have a large number of family in France, a few scattered in America, Germany, Russia, Bulgaria, Greece, Italy, China, Hungary, and Sweden." Molly looked astonished when Sherlock added, "And I spoke every one of their languages."

"Wow, really?"

"I had to, to get through family reunions. It was a nightmare." Sherlock smirked. "My French family was the ones we saw most, and Kirsty had a hell of a time trying to converse with them." Sherlock laughed. "She had only ever had Spanish, so our Italian relatives understood her enough. But after that, she failed. Miserably." Molly giggled.

"How did she manage?"

"We all had to play translator." Sherlock said. "Mycroft was teaching it to Lucinda, so he just had to help her with her wording and such. Kirsty, for a genius with a 155 IQ at sixteen hadn't even grasped it." They laughed. "She did try for me, though, which made all the difference." Sherlock went quiet.

"Do you think we would have met if she hadn't died?"

"Probably. I was considering going into forensics, and working for Scotland Yard." Sherlock said, standing up. "Which means I still would have hated Anderson." They laughed. "But I would never have met John, I wouldn't have needed to. And I would never have gotten into the mess with Moriarty if I hadn't lost her." Sherlock said. "So, a few good things, a few bad." Sherlock said.

"Do you regret it?"

"The only regret I've ever had was not cleaning up my act for my children before it was too late." Sherlock said. "It still is my regret." Sherlock went quiet for a moment, before holding Molly in his arms. After a moment, they walked away, back to the Range Rover, and heading back. They went inside, and Sherlock disappeared for a moment. Molly made her way back into the family room, where only Roger sat, reading a book through a pair of gold colored reading glasses.

"Hey, Roger."

"Molly." He said warmly, putting his book down. "Did you guys visit Kirsty?" Molly nodded.

"We ran into her parents, too." Mr. Holmes came in.

"Kirsty's parents?" Molly nodded. "Did they say officially if they were coming over?"

"They did." Just then, the doorbell rang. After a few moments, Mr. and Mrs. Jonas came in.

"Merry Christmas!" They said. Roger looked at them, grinning.

"Mr. and Mrs. Jonas, it's wonderful to see you again." Roger stood up, and hugged his wife's best friend's parents.

"You as well, Roger. Look at you, so handsome, and tall." Roger flushed bright red. Sherlock smirked. Anna came in, and looked surprised.

"What are you guys doing here?" She seemed pleased, and hugged them both tightly. "I've missed you guys."

"We missed you too, sweetheart." Mr. Jonas said. Sherlock remembered that Kirsty's father had called her girlfriends "sweetheart" and Roger and Sherlock were known as "Son." "We brought someone else, if you don't mind."

"Who?" Mr. Holmes, who, unlike his son, loved people, looked confused. Mark Holmes came into the room, grinning.

"Roger, Anna, Mr. Holmes." Mycroft had sank into his chair. "Mycroft."

"Mark." Mycroft said warmly, not standing up. He wore out easier these days, plus his ankles had the tendency to swell. Although, the only other issue was a searing pain that once in a while hit him in the chest, he had no other long term effects of the heart attack. His stress, which had taken a toll on his already-failing relationship with Archie, had doubled, and had caused the heart attack. His blood pressure had also skyrocketed, and he died twice. "Excuse me for my inability to stand, I've recently had a heart attack."

"That's horrid." Mark said. "I'm so sorry, Mycroft." Sherlock didn't like the pain that shot across Mycroft's face, and Molly caught it. She wrapped her arms around him. He wrapped his around her waist. They snuggled closer together on the couch. Molly then realized she didn't remember Sherlock ever coming into the room.

"Smile." Mrs. Hudson said. They turned to look at her, and Sherlock adjusted so that his arm was wrapped around Molly's shoulders. They leaned in to kiss, when Mrs. Hudson took the picture.

"Oh, dearest, that's a lovely picture." Sherlock laughed against Molly's mouth, and broke apart.

"That was just an excuse to kiss Molly, wasn't it?" Roger asked. Sherlock ignored Roger, and kissed her again. He laughed.

"I'll take that as a yes." Mrs. Hudson said, bustling off. Sherlock unwound himself from Molly, and turned to find out who's eyes were boring into the back of his skull. He found Mark Jonas staring evenly at Sherlock.

"Mark, Merry Christmas." Sherlock said, forcing his politeness. Mycroft smirked.

"Sherlock." Was all Mark said. _How very rude._ Sherlock was miffed by his ex-girlfriend's brother's behavior. "Who's she?" Was the next, very blunt, very straightforward question.

"This is Doctor Molly Hooper, my girlfriend. Molly, this is Kirsty's brother." After having seen pictures that Sherlock had around his bedroom here, she could see the resemblance.

"Hi, nice to meet you." Molly said, sticking her hand out to shake his. He glared coldly at her, and she uncertainly pulled her hand back. Sherlock looked at Mark. It had been no secret that Mark and Sherlock didn't get along. It had progressed worse once Sherlock had deduced that Mark thought Sherlock was- partially, at least- responsible for Kirsty's death. Mark also resented Sherlock for giving up his children, which made no sense. He wasn't exactly uncle (or father, according to Sherlock's deductions) of the year.

"So." Mark said. Mycroft looked at him. "You disappear on my family for twenty years, and suddenly you come back waltzing in, like everything's normal, and with another girl?"

"Mark, if I remember correctly, you came to my home." Sherlock said. "And I ran into your parents at the cemetery. It's not like I planned this." Molly looked confused.

"It's bad enough she's dead, but to disgrace her with another woman?"

"Like you can talk." Sherlock spat back. "You're the one cheating on your wife."

"Sherlock." Roger warned.

"What doing that freaky little magic trick of yours?" Mark spat.

"Markus." Mr. Jonas said in warning.

"It's not a magic trick, it's called observing." Sherlock said. "Maybe you should try it sometime." Sherlock leaned back into the sofa, and crossed his legs. Mycroft leaned forward, and grabbed Mark by the back of his coat, dragging him closer, and forcing him to sit down. Sherlock pulled out his iPhone when it vibrated. "Lestrade, has a case."

"And?"

"Not interested." Sherlock muttered. "Barely worthy of a text message." Sherlock texted back his no, and put his phone inside an inner suit pocket. Molly felt her mobile vibrating too, and looking at it. She read Greg's message.

_Is there something interesting going on? There's a case that's right up his alley, and he turned it down. GL_

_Yeah, a fight with Kirsty's brother. MH_

_Oh, that's bad. Should I be worried? GL_

_Nah, the only thing Sherlock actually deduced from him was his affair. MH_

_LOL of course it was. GL _

Molly smirked and put her phone in her pocket. Sherlock raised an eyebrow at her, and she shook her head. Sherlock gave her his "tell me" look, and she smirked evilly. They were ignoring the watchful gazes around them. He gave her his cheekiest grin that said, "You look beautiful." She shook her head again, and picked up the book she had abandoned before they left for the cemetery, and began reading it. Sherlock shook his head. He'd get to that phone later.

"Did you just have a silent conversation?" Roger asked.

"Happens after a relationship has intelligent people on either end of the spectrum." Molly blushed, not even really reading her book. Sherlock smirked. Mark was furious.

"What's your problem?" Mr. Jonas asked.

"He's just going to sit there, like nothing ever happened. He's just going to sit there, and put his hands all over that whore. He won't even respect Kirsty's memory with her." _Ah, sentiment, I knew __there was a reason._ Sherlock looked at Molly, who's face had gone redder, for an entirely different reason. He knew Mark was only trying to offend himself with the whore comment, but obviously Molly hadn't. She was struggling not to cry. Sherlock was furious.

"Listen, Mark. Whoever I chose to date is none of your concern. Molly isn't a whore, I met her at Barts mortuary." Sherlock said. "She's the best thing that's walked into my life sense Kirsty died. I do respect her memory. I've even introduced her to Kirsty." Sherlock knew that was the wrong thing to say when Mark got really angry.

"You went to my sister's grave, and took this little bitch with you?" Mark was on his feet. "You don't even seem to care that Kirsty died. I _told_ her to stay away from you. But she didn't listen. She'd be pissed if she knew you lost the kids." Sherlock was now on his feet.

"My parenting isn't your concern, Markus." Sherlock's tone was chilly. "I gave my kids up for a better life, one that I no longer could give them. I gave everything that I had to finding Kirsty, you can even ask Detective Inspector Lestrade. I put every inch of my fiber into searching for answers. There weren't any. If I knew, I'd would have told you by now. Furthermore, stop insulting my girlfriend, it's rude. You're the guest in my childhood home, and you are being very rude."

"You could have handed the kids to one of us."

"I didn't want to be able to take them back. Not when I wasn't able to take care of them the way they needed. I was allowed to see them until I went into rehab. Then they refused to let me see my children. It wasn't my fault."

"Great parenting skills." He snorted. "Getting higher than Big Ben instead of taking care of them. You're great, Sherlock. Did you even buy them Christmas presents?"

"Not that it's any of your business, but I did." Sherlock said.

"Did you send them so they'd get there today?"

"No, of course not. That required the overpriced shipping. No, I gave them to Mummy to give to them, much cheaper, and much less of a chance they'll be damaged."

"You won't even spend the money to get your kids their presents on Christmas?"

"Markus, that's enough." Mrs. Jonas was ignored.

"Look, here. You aren't even spending Christmas at home. You got kicked out. I'm as close to my children as I'll ever get to be." Sherlock said. Mycroft looked at him, clearly having an idea.

"Actually, Sherlock, you-"

"Shut up Mycroft, I really don't want your idea right now." Sherlock spoke in his "I'm outsmarting someone" voice. Mycroft knew that better than anyone, and was smirking.

"Fine way to treat your brother who's had a heart attack."

"That's rich, coming from the same man who didn't even show up to his own sister's funeral." Sherlock spat back. The tension was so visible, and so thick, you'd need a chain saw to cut it.

"I was unavailable, Holmes."

"For your own sister's funeral." Sherlock said. "When I faked my own suicide, Mycroft showed up to my funeral, and we barely tolerate each other half the time we're together." Mycroft looked at him.

"How did you know?" Sherlock looked at him, then he looked at Molly. "That explains so much." Molly smiled. He smiled back fondly. He found he rather liked his brother's girlfriend. In his entire life, Sherlock had two girlfriends, and five love interests. So far, they all seemed to be good picks. The tension was still high.

"A doting brother, and you can't even pay your last respects to your only baby sister." Sherlock said. "An overprotective brother can't even say his last goodbye." Sherlock looked at Markus in disgust, disappointment. "And _I'm_ the bad brother." Sherlock shook his head. Archie came in then.

"Hey, Uncle Sher..." his voice slowly trailed off into silence with the "lock" part of Sherlock's name. He stared. "Um...did I miss something?" Alfonse chose that moment to join them too.

"Your dinner..." He looked at them, confused and uncomfortable. The doorbell rang.

"Alfonse, could you get the door? It'll be the detective inspector and his wife." Greg was often invited over to their family events, after everything he had done to save Sherlock's life. Alfonse walked away. Sherlock continued to star at Mark. Archie, who stood next to his dad, looked uncomfortable.

"So, what was Kirsty to you? A sex toy?"

"My almost fiance." Sherlock said. "I was supposed to engage her the night she died." Mrs. Jonas' eyes welled up, and her hands began shaking. Sherlock immediately went over to her to gently hugged her.

"Mark, is it really wise to attack my brother. Molly knows the story." A pitter pattering of feet ran into the room, the voices they carried giggling.

"Hi!" Jonah said. He was grinning from ear to ear, and looking around at everyone. Sally smiled shyly.

"Sally, sweetheart." Roger said. She turned to look at him. "What were you guys doing?"

"We went outside for a minute. Mr. Greg is here." Jonah said, looking up at Sherlock.

"I know." Greg walked in, hand in hand with Megan. "Merry Christmas, again."

"Hey, Sherlock." Sherlock, who had comforted Kirsty's mother, approached the detective inspector, his hand out for a handshake. Lestrade hugged him, much to Sherlock's protest. Jonah giggled. Lestrade knelt down. "Hey there, kid! How are you?"

"I'm good." They hugged. Lestrade shook hands with Sherlock's parents, and Mycroft. Lestrade and Mycroft had been good friends for a very long time.

"Gregory, how are you?"

"Fantastic. How've you been holding up?" He asked, perching on the arm of the chair to talk to his friend. Megan shook hands with Sherlock.

"Megan, hello again." Molly stood up to hug her. Mrs. Holmes ushered them all into the kitchen, and they all sat around for a big dinner. It went without incident, until they sat in the living room again, enjoying their eggnog. Sally and Jonah even had some, although they had made a non-alcoholic batch for them. They were lounging around, and talking. Jonah giggled, and looked at Mrs. Holmes.

"Look up." He said. Mr. Holmes had been grinning slyly. Sherlock and Mycroft rolled their eyes, smirking. Mrs. Holmes blushed when Mr. Holmes leaned in and kissed her fiercely. Lestrade wolf whistled. Roger laughed.

"Very nice." Jonah was giggling. Lestrade, who was sitting in the neighboring armchair, leaned towards Mycroft, conspiring.

"Are we expecting anyone else tonight?"

"John's stopping by tomorrow." Sherlock said. "And staying all weekend. He's visiting his sister and sister in law."

"They got back together? I thought he said Harry was divorcing Clara."

"They were split up, and apparently made it through." Sherlock said. "She's finally cleaning up her act for real this time." Sherlock had an arm around Molly. She was snuggled against his warm body. Archie smirked, and nodded, leaning away from his father.

"That's what I thought too, but I wasn't so sure." Archie said. Lucinda and Sherlock looked at one another, then rolled their eyes; for a failing father-son relationship, they sure were good at plotting evilly. Sherlock figured it must not be completely harmful, Lestrade hadn't protested.

Eventually, Archie, who had gone back to his drawing, looked up and said, "Hey, Uncle Sherlock come here. I want to see if you like this." Looking at it, Sherlock noticed that it had four boys on it, and they were posing. "I'm drawing it for our band. You like?"

"I do. It's impressive."

"Okay. Look u." Sherlock looked. Just above him, hanging from the ceiling, was a sprig of mistletoe. Sherlock went bright red. Molly was giggling.

"Your turn." Mrs. Hudson said. Before he could run, Lestrade grabbed him.

"Oh no you don't, Sherlock." Sherlock had a surprising amount of strength, but his superior was, impressively, stronger.

"Damn it, Lestrade, let me go." Sherlock said, looking grumpy. Molly giggled, and made to stand up and rescue him. Before she could, however, Lestrade had done the unthinkable, and grabbed his face, and planted one right on him. After a milisecond of Lestrade trying really hard not to laugh, Sherlock shoved him away, and shouted, "What the hell?"

"That was for texting me that Anderson was in love with me." Lestrade shouted. Molly burst out laughing, and fell back down on the couch. Sherlock glared at her, his face burning.

"So, wait...you actually _believed_ that?" Now, Lestrade was blushing. Sherlock cracked a grin, and Molly laughed harder. "That's priceless. Jimmy was wondering why you avoided him all day."

"This git decided to plant rumors around."

"And you didn't realize he's cheating on his wife with one of your employees?"

"No, you told me that, but you never know with cops." Lestrade said. Sherlock had been subject to proof of that statement. Molly laughed at his uncomfortable expression, and got up to kiss him herself.

"Much better." Sherlock muttered.

"Before you kill me." Lestrade said. "I'll have you know, it was all Mycroft's idea." Sherlock turned to look at his brother.

"Only because Archie said it first." Archie was still drawing.

"I did." He said bluntly, looking at them. "You should loosen up, Uncle Sher."

"Don't call me that, Archie." Sherlock growled. He laughed.

"You're still standing under the mistletoe." Sherlock stepped out, walked across the living room, threw a giggling Sally over his shoulder, and walked back, setting Sally down in his place.

"There, now I'm not." Sherlock said, walking away, looking grumpy. She blushed and giggled shyly. Without any inhibitions, reservations, or embarrassment, Jonah went right up to her, grabbed her face, and crushed his mouth to hers. When everyone stared at him in shock, he just shrugged and said, "What? I didn't want to leave her without a kiss." He pointed at Sherlock. "If Mr. Greg can kiss Uncle Sherlock when he didn't want him to, can't I kiss someone who would be sad if they didn't get one." Sherlock and Roger looked at one another, and smiled.

Maybe it wasn't such a bad prank after all.

The next morning found John under the mistletoe, and a snog from Mary. At noon, Sherlock had wandered into the living room to find Archie and Lucy snogging heartily under the same spot. Another kiss between Sally and Jonah. Sherlock had deduced the small, childish crush between them, but he wondered if that was even legal. They weren't actually related. Not really.

The kiss from Molly later that night chased those thoughts away.

_She's a very good kisser. Why hadn't I ever realized that before?_

That's a good question Sherlock. Wouldn't we all like to know.

**So, how did you like it? A bit weird, especially with the Lestrade prank, but I thought with a bit of alcohol in their systems (they would have been drinking it at dinner) they would have been loose enough for a silly prank. Sherlock of course, moped and coplained to Molly, who would have threatened the lab away if he didn't shut it. But otherwise good.**

**Also, I'll be going to see my grandma for the weekend, so I won't have internet. I won't be posting those days. The only reason this one took so long, is because it was a long chapter to write! **

**Also, shout out to xXKatnissXx for the twitter follow. So, I get this twitter following request, and, after reading her bio, I noticed her Deviant Art name was the same as one I'd seen on fanfiction. So, I asked her if she commented on this story, and she said yes. I was like "awesome, caue I'm the author!" Totally made my day. I hope that was sheer luck, because my twitter was wrong on my profile. **

**Hope you enjoy. Also, I'm taking requests now for scenes you'd like me to do. Anything at all you want to see. I've got an idea of where I want the story to go, but I need interesting filer ideas. I'm running out! Thanks! PM me if you don't want your idea taken, or just comment with them if you want others to agree with you. Tootles!**


	22. The Promotions

Sherlock went into the Yard one cold February morning, and found that Lestrade was talking to several employees, who were patting him on the back, congratulating him. John and Sherlock strode up to him to find out what was in store.

"Sherlock, John!" Lestrade said. He was grinning nonstop. "Come on, we've got a case. A vicious triple murder." Sherlock and John exchanged confused glances, and looked back at Greg.

"And you're happy about that?" Lestrade laughed.

"No, didn't you guys hear? I'm being promoted to Superindendent."

"Congratulations!" John said. Sherlock liked that, and was grinning in his sarcastic "oh, that's rather convinient" grin. "But, doesn't that mean you're position will be up for grabs."

"Yeah, I get to chose who gets the job." Lestrade led them into the office, and closed the door. "And here's the list of people who are on the list that qualify."

Sergent Sally Donovan

Sergent Michelle Collins

Sergent Paul McGwiggin

Inspector Michael Dunn

Inspector Johnathan Stratford

Inspector Sherlock Holmes

"Wait, Sherlock's considered an Inspector?" John asked. _Sherly you jest._

"Well, Sergent wasn't high enough for him, and there wasn't enough room for another detective inspector. Once one of my inspector's gets a promotion, so do one of my sergants." Sherlock wondered which one would get that promotion.

"Who are you picking?" Sherlock asked. It probably wasn't his business, but then again, when was it ever? Lestrade looked up at him.

"You haven't deduced it yet, Sherlock?" Sherlock, for once, couldn't get a read on the "read like an open book detective" Sherlock once called him to John. "I was hoping you'd take it." Sherlock looked at him in surprise.

"Me? Lestrade, I don't even work here full time."

"Actually, your here often enough for it to be considered full time. We pay you for your help now, and you are more than qualified." Lestrade said. "And your the only one on this list that could use the money for your family." Sherlock thought he had a point, there.

"Won't the other inspector's be furious. Besides, Inspector Stratford has a wife and two kids."

"But you have a son in private school." There was something about Inspector Stratford that Lestrade was hiding. "And you have more cases on him." Lestrade sat back in his chair. "Besides, I asked him, he turned me down."

"Really?" John asked. "That's surprising."

"He even suggested to me that you should get the job."

"Who'd take that Inspector position?"

"Donovan. She's got the best outlook. And I know how you feel about the other two."

"Sergent McGwiggin is retiring, and Collins is an idiot." Sherlock muttered.

"Paul's retiring?" John asked.

"Yeah, next month. He's going on seventy."

"He never got promoted?"

"No, turned them down." Lestrade said. "He liked his level of authority." Lestrade crossed his legs. "What do you say, Sherlock? We'd still be working together, and we need you." Sherlock didn't say anything for a moment.

"Let me consider it. You do realize it would destroy my freelancing career, right?"

"No, it really wouldn't. Sherlock, we'd give you the means to continue your freelancing career. It was the Chief Superintendents idea." Sherlock liked that idea already. "And, you'd get to work with Molly more." Sherlock _really_ liked that idea.

"When do I start?" Sherlock asked. It wasn't a confirmation, but it wasn't denial either. Lestrade learned a long time ago that Sherlock asked questions, got thourough answers before accepting something.

"Monday. Or, later, if you say yes later."

"What's the pay?" Sherlock asked. Lestrade turned his computer screen to Sherlock, and he looked vaguely impressed. It _would_ actually help him pay for Jonah's schooling. He had noticed that school uniforms were rather pricey as well, and that it was going to cost more than he orginially realized to send Jonah to an all-year long private school. Then again, when he had attended that school, he was sure it wasn't as expensive. They had relocated closer to London, which is probably why it was so expensive. Sherlock heaved a sigh, and realized that, with Mycroft needing more help in governmental cases, he would need to be in a higher position to have higher access to records and such. This would be _very_ convinient. Sherlock liked convinience.

"I'll take it." John looked astonished. "It may not be a decent idea for my unwanted public image, but if I have one condition under a no questions asked policy, then I'll take it." John rolled his eyes as if to say "of course."

"That depends."

"My brother has been needing more and more of my help lately with his own cases, because of his heart attack. When he needs my help, I want absolute unlimited access to everything you've got."

"Only with your brother?"

"That's the only time I'd need it." Sherlock said, dead serious. Lestrade nodded.

"Okay. It's my job to give you that access anyway." He said. "On the condition, that, because you now officially work for me...you call me Greg rather than Lestrade. Oh, and no holding evidence."

"I won't be holding it, it'll be on my desk, it's not like you can't take it." Sherlock said. Lestrade rolled his eyes.

"You know what I mean, Sherlock." He said. Sherlock and John cracked equally amused smirks at one another. Lestrade handed him a set of keys. "These go to your office, you'll get your badge on Monday."

"Why do I need a badge?"

"So then you'll stop swiping mine." Lestrade said. John burst out laughing. Sherlock, after a moment, started laughing to. Lestrade couldn't help it, he started laughing. The three of them finally calmed down, and Sherlock took the latest case from Lestrade.

"It's the neighbor." He said, looking at the picture. "His shirt isn't pain stained, and I bet he still has it." Sherlock closed the case, and, after pocketing the keys, he left.

On Monday, Sherlock went into his office. The door already had a nametag on it with "DI Holmes" written on it, and the door was locked. Sherlock went inside, and found the office to his liking. There were bulletin boards, thumb tacks, his gun (that he was surprised about, that someone there would actually give him a gun) and holster, anotehr set of keys, and his badge. Sherlock pocketed the badge, put the holster on to his liking, and put the gun in his holster. The keys had a tag with a liscence plate number to his own squad car on them. He found a manilla folder with his name on the tab. He opened it to find the password to his new Scotland Yard email account, the computer itself, and the database. Sherlock logged in, and was prompted to change his password. He did so, then deleted the email that warned him. He also added his own email as a back up email. He also logged into his regular account, and found that he had a message from Mycroft.

_You're welcome._

Well that was odd, even for Mycroft. Sherlock deleted the email, and opened the second file on his desk. It was a new case. Sherlock opened the file and realized it was going to take a while. When he found that the latest victim was arrested five times for possesion, he realzied something.

"I was arrested that many times." Sherlock said out loud to himself, leaning back in his chair. "Why am I here?" He logged out of his computer, picked up both files, and went to Lestrade's new office. He walked into the large room, and slapped the files on his desk.

"Well, good morning to you too."

"Read the latest victim's criminal record."

"Five arrests for possession, and two for DUI." He looked thoughtful.

"Does that sound remotely familiar to you?"

"Yeah, your past." Lestrade said. "I know."

"Then why is it that I was allowed to be hired here. I've been arrested."

"Yeah, for possesion, but's that really a felony. Besides, if you would have used that big brain of yours to research, you'd know the answer." Lestrade turned to his computer, and typed furiously, before turning the screen to Sherlock. "You'd have seen that your record mysteriously has cleared itself, and that the only thing on here was the report about your fight with Malcolm." Sherlock thought back to the email Mycroft sent him.

_You're welcome._

Well, that certainly explained things. Sherlock sighed.

"It's Mycroft isn't it?"

"Yeah." Sherlock said, shaking his head, picking up his files. "I've got to go down to the morgue and look at these bodies, I'll be back."

"Have fun." Sherlock went into the office, dropped his own folder, pulled on his coat, grabbed the case folder, and locked his office door behind him. Checking that he had his driver's license on him (usually, he did, but Molly had cleaned out his coat pockets the night before) he went into the car park out back, and unlocked his car. He got in the front seat, and drove to Barts.

He went in, and hung up his coat, then found Molly in the morgue, writing up paperwork. She looked up, and grinned. "Hey Sherlock!" They kissed.

"I need the report from the Johnson case." It was called that, because everyone who had been murdered had the last name Johnson. Molly tossed him a pair of gloves, and pulled on her own pair, before looking over the body. Sherlock studied it carefully.

"What was the cause of death?"

"Gunshot to the head." Molly said. So, it fit the MO.

_Calluses on his fingers, they resemble Archie's. Either artist or guitar player. Guitar player seems more likely. _

_Drug residue on his lips, recently smoked marajuana then. _

_Puncture marks in his fingers. Diabetic_

_Small tatoo on his forearm of a heart, sentiment. Most likely in honor of a girlfriend. It's never been touched up, so it's for an ex girlfriend. _

"Molly, what clothes was he wearing when he came in?" She was back at her desk, and had simply pointed towards the gurrney they were spread across. Sherlock looked them over. He may not have been up to date with the fashion senses, but he knew designer when he saw it.

_Designer clothes then. Probably for the image, they're clearly old and more worn out. People actually wear jeans this tight? There's his mobile. _Still wearing his gloves, he pulled out the phone, and found it was an iPhone. Sherlock went through it. _There are hearts around Lizzie's name. Romantic attatchment. ICE is labled next to mum. His mother was an emergency contact then._ Sherlock went through the main contacts list, and was vaguely surprised to see his own name and email, and home address written in the correct locations. _He knew of his murder, he was looking for help. _ Sherlock opened the emails, to find an email being sent to him, but the email only had "I need your help" written on it. _He started an email to me, but wasn't able to finish. The killer had arrived before the email was sent out. Interesting..._

_There's a text message to Lizzie._ "Goodbye, my love." It read, just before the killer's estimated time of death._ He knew he was going to die. _ This got weirder and weirder by the second.

By the time Sherlock had taken everything back to the Yard, and had studied it, he hadn't gotten further. In fact, he still hadn't figured it out by the time he went to pick up Jonah. He studied the pcitures printed out from his phone, and studied them until Jonah had to get into bed. Sherlock read Jonah a bedtime story, and went back to it. From his thinking all day, Sherlock had been getting a headache. Now, after spending a bit of time with his son, Sherlock's headache had eased. He had needed the distraction to clear his head a bit. He pulled out a nicotene patch, and peeled off the sticky paper, before pressing it onto his skin. His headache eased more, and he laid back on the couch, to think.

This would be a very stressful case.


	23. The Rescue

Sherlock still hadn't found the answers to the Johnson case. It had been a month. It had frustrated Sherlock to no end that he couldn't find the right answers. Sherlock was getting really irritated with the entire case, and the publicity it had gotten. Sherlock frequently went to press conferences for other cases minor cases, and would be questioned constantly about the Johnson case. Sherlock never had answers. Every lead had a dead end, and it had even worn out Lestrade. A nice mental break is what Sherlock needed.

So he did exactly that. Sherlock, Lestrade, John, and Molly had gone to lunch. Sherlock had caved to his biological needs he'd been nearly neglecting, and made sure to order a sandwich and some crisps. He ate it all.

It was on there way back that proved to be the real distraction. Sherlock, Molly, John, and Lestrade were walking back to the morgue, when they found a large crowd surrounding a flat building. Sherlock heard "help me!" being shouted from the seventh story window. He noticed the boy was Jonah's age. "Somebody please, help me!" The boy wailed. He was trapped.

Without thinking, Sherlock ran, pushing through the crowd shouting, "Scotland Yard, let me through." Sherlock grabbed a mask off the nearest fire fighter, and pulled it on. He ran, and, for all he was worth, ran straight towards the burning building. The boy was unable to reach the fire escape. Sherlock went into the burning building, and ran up the seven flights of stairs. Fire roared around him, and smoke burned his eyes and lungs, but he kept pushing. He ran down the floor until the strangled sounds of "help me!" were clearly heard. Sherlock found it disturbing that this flat was also addressed 221B. A wall by the stairwell came down, and Sherlock's cough came from deep within his chest. He ran at the door, and slammed his shoulder into it. It burst open, and he ran, through the heat of the flames, into the nearest room, where the boy was crying. Sherlock burst in. The boy turned around.

"Mister!" Sherlock held out his arms, and the boy jumped in them.

"Put your face into my shoulder, the smoke will harm your lungs." Sherlock wheezed out, his voice croaky. The boy buried his face deep into Sherlock's shoulder, and held on tight. Sherlock went into the room with the fire escape, and dropped him onto it.

"Go, run!" Sherlock shouted. He clambered out through the window. The fire escape broke off, engulfed by flames, at the third floor. The boy was at the fifth floor, and screamed. "You can make it from the fifth floor, go!" They had the means to catch the two, so the boy ran down the ladder, and jumped. They caught him, and pulled him to safety. Before Sherlock could make a move, the escape ladder groaned, and began buckling. Sherlock gripped the escape, and let out a wheezy, rattling cough. He spit out a mouthful of soot, before the ladder buckled a little more. He could see Molly, John, and Lestrade looking scared. The floor fell from beneath him, and he held on fast, grabbing on with his other hand. People screamed. Sherlock tried to pull himself up. The floor he had been standing on swung back, and nailed him in the back. A searing pain ran up his back, but a lack of a sticky, wet feeling told him he hadn't been cut by the floor. He tried to swing himself in the direction of the catch they had, but he knew he'd never make it. Sherlock swore, and tried to pull himself higher. The floor above him creaked and groaned. Sherlock gulped. Then, it broke off.

Molly screamed when Sherlock started falling. John looked away, and she realized that this was too much like when he faked his own death. They ran at Sherlock, pushing through, to find him flat on his back, coughing up blood and soot. Sherlock was unconscious, but alive. Barely, but he was. Mycroft was suddenly getting out of his car, and running towards them. A team of paramedics rushed towards them with a stretcher, and put him in it. They put a neck brace on him, and had him strapped to the stretcher, so he wouldn't unintentionally give himself more injuries when he woke up. Molly clambered into the back of the ambulance with Mycroft, and they drove off. John and Lestrade ran to Lestrade's car, and hopped in. Lestrade turned on his lights and sirens, and they drove off, blowing through light and sign alike.

Sherlock woke up, his chest aching, his back in searing pain, and his eyes swimming. Sherlock knew that the smoke had probably permanently damaged his lungs and eyesight. _Damn, I'm going to need glasses._ Those weren't going to help with fighting crime. They never were. Contacts were a possibility, depending on the damage done.

"Sherlock, are you all right?" Molly? Sherlock groaned, and coughed wheezily. A nurse helped him sit up, and he spat out the soot.

"I'm still coughing that up?" He croaked out.

"Yes, you will be for a while." The nurse said, hooking a mask up to his face. She turned on the machine, and he took a breath. The mist that swirled around him on his exhale was instantly recognized. The nurse had hooked him up to a breathing machine. Already he had been breathing easier. "Your asthma was seriously triggered with the fall."

"How long have I been out?"

"Five days." She said. Molly was holding his hand. "How are you feeling?"

"I hurt. What's the damage?"

"You misplaced four ribs, the same ones you popped out of place at sixteen, and you nearly realigned your spine in four spots. We've set them all right, but a chiropractor will be the only one to heal your spine completely. It shouldn't interfere much with your work once it's healed. It will twinge from time to time, but it won't be to unbearable." She said. Sherlock's wheezing went down. Another cough from deep in his chest cavity brought up another mouthful of mucus and soot.

"What's the damage to my chest?"

"Besides your smokers lungs, not much. The soot will take a few days to clear out. You got lucky, and didn't inhale enough smoke for anything serious or permanent." She looked at him, after turning off the breathing machine. His breathing was easier, but he'd had a tad too much medication, and his fingers were shaky. "You did a good thing, Mr. Holmes. We need more people like you." She left the room. Lestrade came in.

"Sherlock, mate, how are you?"

"Sore." Sherlock admitted. "My chest hurts from coughing, and my back is rather painful." The nurse came back with medicine. She gave him pain medication.

"I bet, you fell seven stories."

"Barts is higher than that." Lestrade winced. _Bit not good..._

"Don't tell John that one. He's a mess." John was brought in by Donovan. They both looked at him. Molly had tears in her eyes. Sherlock deduced that she was relieved.

"Sherlock. You okay?" John's voice was strained. Sherlock laughed once, which brought on another round of painful coughs, and spitting out soot.

"I've been better." Sherlock said. Then again, he'd been "dead" too. Molly was still clinging to his hand. Sherlock squeezed it, and felt the light pressure of Molly squeezing his hand back. "It hurt worse ten minutes ago."

"You on pain medication?" Sherlock nodded, and coughed. Fortunately, this one wasn't bringing up soot. Molly handed him a bottle of water, which he drank from. It made him a tad more alert.

"You know who it was that you saved, right?" Lestrade asked. Sherlock shook his head. "That was the Prime Minister's grandson." Sherlock looked surprised. "He's thanking Mycroft right now for everything. I guess he's also related extremely distantly to the Queen." Well, that didn't happen on a daily basis. Sherlock didn't know what to think. Lestrade went to let others visit, taking Donovan with him. Mycroft, a terrified Jonah, and a worried Archie came in.

"Dad." Jonah said, before running to the bed, scrambling on it, and gently hugging him. Sherlock wrapped his arms around Jonah, and found his left arm-his dominant arm- was stuck to an IV. He used his free arm to smooth Jonah's hair to his head.

"Shh, Jonah it's all right." Sherlock reassured. "I'm okay." Jonah was silently crying into Sherlock's gown. Tears soaked through to Sherlock's shoulder. Molly was fighting back tears.

"Excuse me for a minute." She whispered, letting go of his hand, and leaving.

"Molly?" John asked. She ignored him, and went into the hallway. Sherlock looked worried. Jonah held onto Sherlock. Archie sat down, ghost white, in Molly's vacated seat.

"We were worried. Are you okay?" Sherlock nodded, and reached out to smooth Archie's thick, straight brown hair to his head. It was like comforting his own son. Sherlock found himself being covered in his nephew, and Archie was trying not to cry. He knew Archie didn't like an audience when he cried. He honestly didn't blame the boy.

"Archie, I'm all right. Jonah, Archie, look at me." They did. Archie wasn't crying, but he was close to it. Jonah mopped his face off on his hoodie sleeve. Sherlock grabbed a tissue from his bedside table, and handed it to Jonah, who mopped up his face with it. "Listen to me, all right. I'm okay. I'm just a bit battered up. I'll need a chiropractor, but otherwise I'll be back to normal in no time." Sherlock said. They both nodded.

"Doesn't make me any less worried." Archie said. "You like danger too much." Sherlock looked at his nephew, and found the teary-eyed boy was laughing. It was a tad humorless, but it was a laugh. Sherlock smirked back.

"I'm all right. John would bring me back to life just so that he could kill me again if I died." Archie laughed, an actual laugh this time. John and Mycroft exchanged knowing looks.

Meanwhile, in the hallway, Molly was clinging onto Lestrade for life, sobbing into his shoulder.

"Shh...Molly he's all right." She didn't respond. Megan came in and looked worried. Mary did too. "Molly he's just fine. He's in there right now, awake and mostly healthy." Lestrade comforted Molly by rubbing her back soothingly.

"How is he?' Mary asked.

"John or Sherlock?" Mary looked confused. "John's got his limp back, after watching Sherlock fall. It kicked in part of his old PTSD." Mary winced. "Otherwise both are fine." Molly was still crying. "Molly, I don't understand what's wrong." Greg held her at arms length. "Talk to me."

"Let's go get coffee." Mary said. "We can bring it back to them." Megan nodded. As they walked away, Megan said, "I just hope Molls is all right." Mary couldn't agree more.

"It's just..." Molly took a shaky breath. "Seeing Jonah all scared and heartbroken made me wonder what would have happened if Sherlock had died, and the relief from the situation." Molly choked off. Lestrade pulled her in for another hug. What was great about their (entirely platonic, I might add) relationship, is that Molly had the big brother she'd always wanted. Molly was only in her early thirties, and Lestrade was 40, but they were closer than even John and Sherlock at times. Molly found the big brother in Lestrade she had wanted, and needed, and Greg dotted on Molly like she was his baby sister. He had no siblings either.

"It's okay, Molly. Everything's going to be okay." She calmed down after spilling her guts. When Megan and Mary came back, they handed her a cup of coffee.

"You okay now?" Molly nodded, and smiled.

"Yeah, it's just overwhelming." She said. Mary pulled her into a hug, and Megan joined them.

"Don't worry, we get it." John limped into the hallway, and found Molly looking worse for wear.

"You okay?"

"Overwhelmed. You?" He didn't respond, but the slightly haunted look in his eyes pretty much answered that question. Molly took a sip of her coffee, her hand shaking slightly. Mary, hugged John, who wrapped his arms around her. Lucy, who had appeared out of nowhere, ran to them and hugged them. They held onto her, and John even pressed a kiss to Lucy's forehead. A rattling cough came from Sherlock's room, silence, then Archie laughing. Jonah even giggled, although it sounded shaky, and scared. Mycroft exited the room.

"He's just fine. Molly, are you all right?" The pathologist nodded her head, and took a sip from her coffee. John let go of Mary and Lucy, and settled for holding Mary's hand. Lucy took his other empty hand. He smiled gratefully at her. Greg had an arm around Megan. Mycroft looked a bit...lonely. She noted that she could go to either group and be welcomed by a hug, but Mycroft did handshakes, and that was it. He wasn't close to either man's significant other, nor John, for that matter. She went to him and hugged him. After a surprised silence, Mycroft gingerly wrapped and arm around Molly, and patted her back.

"Thank you, Molly." He whispered. She smiled at him.

Maybe Sherlock's brother wasn't as bad as he claimed.

**You like? I wasn't planning on making Sherlock a DI, but I liked the title, and I liked the idea of giving him terms. It helped him get through to the boy, so it helped. I hope you guys liked this. It was gut wrenching to write, but so much fun creating it. Especially because I've had little motivation and no ideas. I need requests, things for filler between now and the next point in the plot line. It would help out. I have one suggestion already, but I'm using it towards the end. **

**Also, my shout out today is to the violinists who play to hip hop music in the background, because it helped me write through this. **


	24. The Employment

Sherlock was staring at his notes when his mobile went off. "DI Holmes." He said, without looking at the caller ID.

"Sherlock, it's me." Roger was on the phone. "Did you know our women talked?"

"No, I didn't." Sherlock said, even though he'd had his suspicions.

"Me either. Listen, we're moving to London." Sherlock looked up.

"Oh."

"Yeah, I was fired, so we found that the empty flat in Molly's building was cheaper."

"You were fired?"

"Yeah, budget cuts, and I'm lower seniority." Sherlock beckoned Lestrade through his open office door.

"Let me...hold on." He looked at Lestrade. "You don't have any open pathology positions do you?"

"We have one. Sharon quit last month."

"Perfect, I have someone." Sherlock held out his mobile, and went back to his case. Lestrade looked confused and put the mobile to his ear.

"Hello?" He sat down. "Oh, Roger, yeah!" A pause, before. "No, just bring it in, and we'll get you started once we check out your credentials." Lestrade said. Sherlock knew his cousin had been a forensics worker at the local police station in Leeds, and he knew he was overqualified no matter where he went. Lestrade asked him a few questions, and hung up, handing Sherlock his iPhone back. "He's overqualified twice over what Anderson had." Sherlock smirked.

"You're forgetting who he's related to, Lestrade." Sherlock said. Lestrade laughed.

"I am, aren't I?" He said.

The next morning, Roger was already there, looking over pictures from the Anderson case.

"They all died from the gun through the temple, but what's with the lack of blood? Poison?"

"What else would it be?"

"...Allergic reaction?" Sherlock shook his head.

"No signs of anepholectic shock." Sherlock said. Roger nodded.

"So, why shoot them in the head after they died?"

"Insurance that they're dead."

"But why? Shouldn't you _know_ that you have the right dosage?" Sherlock looked at Roger in surprise, and excitement.

"Yes. You would. So that means..."

"He's inexperienced." They said together. Sherlock and Roger stared at one another.

"Oh, great, now there's two of them" Anderson groaned. Sherlock and Roger looked up. Because their father's had been twins, Sherlock and Roger looked like they could be twins.

"Oh my God, you look like twins." Lestrade said. "You don't notice it until you stand next to each other." He looked puzzled. "So why don't you and Mycroft look related?"

"Mycroft looks like my mother." Sherlock said. "My cousin Justin looks like Mycroft. He's Mummy's twin brother."

"Mummy?"

"Yes, my mother." Sherlock said, looking at Anderson. "Do you have a problem with my reference to my mother?" Sherlock noticed that Anderson looked odd. He couldn't place the emotion.

"No...no I don't." Somehow, Sherlock knew he wasn't saying it just to say it, he was being sicere. Sherlock turned back to Roger, and looked at the pictures. It wasn't much, but it was something. Sherlock's phone rang. "DI Holmes." Sherlock looked vaguely surprised. "Father?" He walked towards his office. Roger turned to look at him in confusion mingled with surprise, before he jumped up and followed him. "What is it?"

"Nothing." He sounded strangely relieved. "Just...nothing."

"Then why do you sound relieved to hear me?" Sherlock asked.

"Nothing. It's just...God, Sherlock, when's the last time you heard from your brother?"

"Why?"

"Not sense Sunday."

"We can't get ahold of him, and we weren't getting ahold of you either. Call your brother, please?" Sherlock hung up, and dialed Archie.

"Uncle Sherlock, you call people?" Sherlock rolled his eyes, and supported his mobile between his shoulder and ear to open a bottle of water.

"My parents are worried, what's with your father?" Archie burst out laughing. Sherlock took a swig of his water.

"They've been...engaging in marital relations for the past three days." Sherlock, who had been drinking, choked on his water.

"You mean my brother actually spends time with his wife?" Archie laughed.

"Apparently, and apparently they have a good time when they do. You can hear them from my room. Uncle Sherlock, my house isn't exactly tiny." Sherlock smirked and laughed.

"Well, tell your father to enjoy himself from Roger and I." Archie laughed.

"All right Uncle Sherlock. He'll be thrilled." Sherlock laughed. Roger looked confused.

"Sherlock, what's going on?" Sherlock pulled the phone away from his mouth.

"My brother, your cousin, is having marital relations with his wife. My parents have been panicking because they weren't getting ahold of either of us." Roger laughed. "I'm speaking with Archie."

"Tell Archie that," Sherlock held out the phone. "I hope Mycroft has a very sexy time." Sherlock grinned, and put the phone back to his ear.

"You hear that?"

"Loud and clear, Uncle Sherlock." Sherlock laughed.

"Perfect." Sherlock laughed. They hung up. Roger and Sherlock did a complex handshake thing, and Sherlock swept into his office. Lestrade watched them, and looked absolutely stunned.

"He's like a normal guy." He said. Donovan nodded.

"It's Roger. He's done something to Sherlock." Lestrade nodded.

Oh yes he did.


	25. The Acceptance

Sherlock was supposed to be recovering, so he was on paperwork duty for the Johnson case, wracking his brains, and spending his weekends at his parents home. Molly often went with him. This particular weekend, they were having a small gathering. They had invited John, Mary, and Lucy, Greg (which Sherlock had finally, yet reluctantly, began calling his superior officer) Megan, Collin, Suzie (remember Lestrade's kids? It's been a while) and Roger, Anna, and Sally. It was a small party for Mycroft's anniversary. Lucinda and Mycroft had been married twenty five years.

They were just finished with dinner, and they were sitting in the family room. Sherlock's back had been started to ache when Alfonse came in, looking shocked.

"There is a guest here to see you." He said to Mycroft. Sherlock looked over the couch, and his eyes widened when Prince William walked in.

"Prince William." Molly breathed. He was followed by the Queen. Sherlock turned, looked at Molly, and looked back.

"Mycroft." The Prince said. Mycroft heaved himself from his chair, and shook William's hand.

"Will. Your Highness." Mycroft bowed to Queen Elizabeth.

"Is your brother here, Mycroft?" Sherlock made to stand, and groaned when his back protested. "My apologies, he's severely injured."

"Of course he is, Mycroft, he fell seven stories." Sherlock winced and gingerly walked towards him. Jonah looked at his father in shock.

"Sherlock Holmes." Sherlock shook hands with Prince William, then bowed his head to the Queen.

"I do apologize for the lack of movement in my back, Your Highness." Sherlock said. "I've misplaced two vertebrae in my back."

"Not to worry, dear. You know that it was my great nephew you rescued, Mr. Holmes." Sherlock glanced at Molly.

"I knew it was something like that." Sherlock said. Molly was standing, but farther behind Sherlock. "To what do we owe this great pleasure?"

"We have a request for your honerable work, sir." Sherlock looked at Mycroft, who looked confused.

"What would that be?" He asked. "If I may ask."

"We would like to extend the honor of a knighting." Sherlock turned and looked at Mycroft in an accusatory manor.

"Not me, dear brother, I can assure you." Molly looked shocked.

"You _have_ turned down the honor from your brother. So we figured if you could turn down Mycroft, could you turn _us_ down?" Sherlock knew he had a point. Jonah looked shocked.

"Yes." Sherlock said. "I can see why you would...make that observation." Sherlock's parents were gaping at Sherlock. "I...I don't know what to say."

"Sherlock, you can't possibly turn that down." Molly said. "You'd have to be insane." Sherlock looked at her.

"Molly, he met the _Queen._ He can't get much better than that." Jonah said. "Besides, you know what he's like. He won't want there to be publicity."

"How old are you?"

"Seven." Jonah said.

"He talks like an adult." William looked surprised. "It's impressive."

"It's what happens when Sherlock Holmes is your father." John muttered. Sherlock gave him a withering look.

"What do you say Sherlock?" Jonah got to his feet. Roger came into the room, and stopped, looking completely gobsmacked.

"I..." Sherlock looked to Molly, to Mycroft, to Jonah, John, and Lestrade. He looked at Roger, and then, at his vibrating mobile.

_Unlce Sherlock, take it. You'd be the world's greatest uncle twice._ Sherlock turned, and his eyes met Archie's._ If you don't...you'd be missing out on the opportunity of a lifetime._

"I accept." Sherlock said. Normally, he'd turn it down. But he knew this was something he couldn't possibly miss.

"Splendid!" William said, shaking Sherlock's hand. "Now, we'll have a party of course, and everyone you want is invited." _Oh, joy, parties._ Sherlock forced a smile.

"Well, that's pretty much everyone here." Sherlock said.

"It's an official ceremony. So wear your best tuxedo's. May we be introduced to everyone."

"Oh, yes of course. You know Mycroft. This is his wife, Lucinda. Their son, Archie." Sherlock turned and gestured to John. "This is John, my...well, he has many titles, we'll leave that out. His wife Mary, her daughter Lucy." They all bowed and shook hands when appropriate. "My superior officer at the yard, Superintendent Greg Lestrade, his wife Megan, and their children Suzie and Collin. My cousin Roger, his wife Anna, and their daughter Sally. And, my son Jonah, and my girlfriend Molly." Sherlock said. "Oh, and my parents, James and Martha Holmes." Sherlock's hand went to his back. "Excuse me." He walked away, and eased himself in a chair, hissing in pain. John went over to him.

"Sherlock you okay?"

"I need my pain medication. I know you and Molly are keeping it from me."

"Because we should trust a former junkie with his own pain meds, which are narcotics, right?" Sherlock gave him another withering glare.

"Just get me the damned medicine." Sherlock grumbled. John walked off, and came back with the pills and a glass of water. Sherlock downed the pills and water, and eased back.

"How badly did you misplace your spine?" Prince William asked. Sherlock looked at him.

"Bad enough to need a chiropractor for the next year." Sherlock said. He winced. Molly sat next to him, and took his hand. "Thank you, Molly." Sherlock and Molly smiled gently at one another briefly. Jonah clambered onto the cushions next to Sherlock.

"You okay Dad?" Sherlock looked at Jonah, and nodded. Jonah hugged him, being gentle.

"Yes, son, my back is just bothering me."

"We better be off, got a lot of things we need to do." Prince William shook Sherlock's hand. "Wonderful to meet you." They were off. Molly looked at him in shock.

"I can't believe we just met the Queen." Sherlock smirked.

"When you're related to who I am, you meet a lot of people that are high up there." Sherlock said. "I've met a lot of people that you'd have fainted when you meet them." Sherlock took her hand, and sipped his water. He kicked his legs up, and pushed her down the couch. He stretched out across the couch, and laid his head in her lap, before closing his eyes. Molly lifted his head, and stood up. Then, she curled up beside him, and he leaned in to kiss her forehead. Within moments, both were sound asleep.

Mrs. Holmes, who had been in the kitchen, came in to get Sherlock for lunch. She stopped, and caught Mr. Holmes before he could go on. They looked on as Sherlock, who was spooned around Molly, slept contentedly.

That was the first time he had ever slept willingly while on a case.

Lucy made sure to get a picture. She knew exactly when they would get these pictures, and when. She smiled, and looked at her screen.

"Perfect." She whispered, before running away.

Sherlock went into the Yard Monday morning, and was met with a round of applause. He looked at everyone, eyes wide, and looking between person to person. Even Anderson had given him a nod, a sign of respect. Lestrade grinned.

"Sorry mate, couldn't keep it from them." Sherlock looked confused. "Your knighting." Sherlock sighed. John and Megan approached.

"Sherlock, could I talk to you for a second?" Sherlock nodded, and walked away. People were shouting their congratulations all around. He was thanking them awkwardly. They finally made it to his office, and he unlocked it, opened it, and they went inside. Sherlock tossed his keys on his desk, and eased himself into his chair.

"You said you guys needed to talk to me?"

"People know that I know you personally, and are dying for an interview." Megan said. "It's entirely up to you. I told them you might say no." Sherlock groaned, and leaned back. "I know you don't like reporters, but this would be me alone. It's just about what you did for that boy. I know you have a press conference on that anyway." Sherlock sighed, then looked at her.

"You think you could go to that? Ask all the right questions, get your story...the correct story...together?"

"Sure." Megan said. "If you want to give me a little more to work with, that would be fantastic. It would be information only I would have. I don't give any of my notes to my clients." Sherlock sighed. "Like I said, it's entirely up to you." John had known the idea, Sherlock had deduced. But how much was his...?

Sherlock sighed and ran his hand down his face. "Do I have a choice?"

"Of course. If you say no, I write up what I have. You can even look at my questions first." Megan said, handing him the paper. He looked at them.

"You actually have unbiased questions? Impressive." Sherlock read through them. Megan Lestrade wasn't as unprepared as most reporters were.

"I'll answer these by email." Sherlock said finally. Megan knew he hated people in general.

"Okay." She said. "Sherlock." He looked at her. "Thank you. I know you don't like doing these, but I figured if it was someone you knew you'd do it." Sherlock nodded.

"Besides, Greg would kill me because I turned down an interview with his wife." Sherlock said. John and Megan laughed while Sherlock logged into his computer. He opened his case file.

"John, you busy today?" Sherlock asked.

"Not until two."

"I need help on this Johnson case." Someone knocked. "Come in, Anderson." Anderson came in, and handed Sherlock a new file. His hands shook.

"Newest case."

"You okay?" John asked, standing up and pushing the forensics man into his chair.

"Yeah, I'm fine." He said, trying to laugh.

"James, you aren't." Megan said. "Tell us." Sherlock watched Anderson as he dropped his face into his hands.

"It's Sally." Sherlock said suddenly. He knew exactly what that was like, knowing what Anderson's reaction was. "How long?" Anderson didn't even question how Sherlock knew.

"Two months." Sherlock closed his eyes. _That was how far Kirsty was._ He breath, and opened his eyes.

"What's going on?"

"Sally Donovan is pregnant." Sherlock said.

**Ooh, cliffhanger! Sorry, but the rest of this continues into the next chapter. So it had to be done. Fortunately I'm posting these quickly after one another, so it won't _seem_ like a cliffhanger. Also, check out the Greg/Megan oneshot series I'm posting. I'll be taking requests for those as well. Thank you for your support, you all are amazing. You can contact me via Twitter, which is on my profile. Thanks again!**


	26. The Reunion

They sat in a silence while Sherlock deduced Anderson. "No, she's the future Mrs. James Anderson." Anderson blushed, and nodded.

"When did you find out?" Megan asked.

"Just now." Anderson said. _My exact wording to Roger..._ This whole this was one, big, painful flashback for Sherlock. Lestrade knocked and came inside.

"Hey guys!" He looked at Anderson and was immediately concerned. "James, you okay?"

"Sally's pregnant." Sherlock said, knowing Anderson wasn't in any condition to answer. He knew what that was like. Sherlock and Lestrade looked at one another. "Two months pregnant." Greg, who had heard Sherlock's entire story through his friendship with Mycroft, winced.

"When did you find out?" Sherlock closed his eyes and mouthed his answer at the same time as Anderson.

"Just now." Lestrade looked at Sherlock. There was a tense silence. _John and Megan's footsteps. They're leaving. _The door shut, confirming Sherlock's deductions. Sherlock opened his eyes. Anderson was staring at a point on Sherlock's desk, not really seeing it.

"Look, Anderson, Sherlock this is tough." Anderson looked at Sherlock, and found the detective staring at the only picture on his desk. "Anderson, I know this isn't what you to had wanted." Anderson had officially been in a relationship once his divorce with his wife was final. "And I know what you two have to face. Sherlock..." Sherlock was staring at the picture on his desk. Lestrade caught what it was, seeing it from his position. Anderson couldn't see it. "I knew you..." Lestrade got called away then. Sherlock stood up, and swept from the office, smoothing down his suit. He needed a conversation with Roger.

"Roger, have you gotten anywhere with the Johnson case?"

"You still haven't solved that?" Inspector Johnathan Stratford looked perplexed. "That's unusual, this must be a tough case."

"Every time we get anywhere leads turn out to be a red herring or lead to a dead end." Sherlock said. Roger was rubbing at his neck, looking stressed. John was doing what he could, but he knew that he couldn't keep leaving Barts to follow Sherlock. They worked during lunch in the cafeteria, and when John had no cases. Molly, and even Mary were trying to help. They were getting nowhere. Sherlock leaned his backside against Roger's desk.

"I don't have anything." Roger said, looking frustrated. "Damn it." Sherlock was frustrated too. Roger sighed. "You know, I hate working here. This is seriously starting to affect my sex life." Sherlock looked at Roger, still leaning against Roger's desk. They both burst out laughing. Anderson, who had come in when Roger mentioned his sex life, looked confused and a bit disturbed. Sherlock and Roger laughed harder. Donovan, who had heard them too, burst out laughing at Anderson's facial expression. They were laughing, when Lestrade called Sherlock over, and he walked in that direction, still laughing. Sherlock went to Lestrade, and turned his head to the left when someone came in. He was still grinning.

There was a rather attractive girl walking towards them. She had black hair in a pixie cut, and it was curly like Sherlock's. Her eyes also matched his. Sherlock couldn't figure it out, but she seemed...familiar. She followed Brenman in, and looked nervously at him. Her skinny jeans elongated her legs, and her Converse were black and white. Her black t-shirt was form fitting to her. A basic outfit. Sherlock used to dress like that...

"Can we help you, sweetheart?" Lestrade asked her, smiling kindly. He seemed like a softie, but when it came to grilling someone, he could get angry.

"Are you Sherlock Holmes?" She asked him. Roger came over to hand something to Lestrade.

"Yes, that would be me. Can I help you?" She looked nervous, but she smiled.

"Mr. Holmes, I'm Lily. You're my father." Sherlock looked at her, really looked at her.

"Lily?" He asked. Roger and Greg looked shocked. "My Lily?" She nodded, tears in her eyes. He pulled her into his arms. She was laughing and crying at the same time. "I can't believe it's you!" He kissed her cheek. "Sweetheart." He whispered, then pulled her away at arms length. "Look at you, you're all grown up on me! You were three when I last saw you." Sherlock had tears in his eyes. "You're so beautiful." Lily laughed.

"Well, look at who my father is." Sherlock flushed bright red. Roger laughed.

"Oh, yes. Lily, this is my cousin, Roger. Roger, this is my daughter. And this is my friend and boss, Superintendent Greg Lestrade."

"Hi." She said. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to barge in your work like this." Sherlock shook his head.

"No, sweetheart. Don't worry about it." Roger hadn't seen Sherlock that excited about a person sense Kirsty. Sherlock kissed her temple again, and hugged her.

"So this is Sherlock's infamous daughter." Greg said. "How are you sweetheart?"

"I'm good. Listen, Daddy, Mum, Dad, and Callum aren't at home but I told them I was planning on having a friend for dinner. Would you want to come over? I know you've been dying to meet Callum." Sherlock rubbed her upper arms.

"Honey, you know what your parents think of me."

"I don't care, they don't know the real you."

"Lily, _you_ don't know the real me." He said. She realized he was right. "Come here." He took her into his office. "You like it?"

"You're a DI? Dad, that's awesome."

"I was promoted. They hired me on as an Inspector here, and promoted me later." Sherlock said. "A clearance thing. I'm still working freelance though."

"That's cool." She said. "I've heard about your cases in the papers. I absolutely love them." She said, sitting down.

"I'm going to the staff room for coffee, you need anything?" Roger asked Sherlock.

"I'll go too. You okay with being here alone?" Lily nodded. "You need anything?" She shook her head. Sherlock and Roger walked off. Anderson was leaning against the counter, still looking shell shocked.

"You okay?" Roger asked.

"Huh? Oh, yeah, I'm fine." Roger didn't believe Anderson for a second. Roger walked away, and Anderson looked at Sherlock. "So...you have a daughter?"

"I have a son, too. Her older brother." Sherlock said.

"You had kids? With another woman?"

"Believe it or not yes." Anderson looked at his Styrofoam cup. Sherlock was making his coffee in his own cup. "But, I was only sixteen." Sherlock didn't normally offer up information, but he knew it would help.

"Sixteen? That's the scare of a lifetime at sixteen. Sherlock and Anderson laughed. "So, what made you give your kids away?" Sherlock didn't know how to respond.

"They're Kirsty's kids. You saw the story at Lestrade's party."

"But you didn't tell us the whole story." Donovan said, looking at him. "I know you better than that, Freak." Sherlock looked at them both, and put his cup down. He removed his jacket, then unbuttoned his sleeve, and slowly rolled it up to show the scared puncture marks.

"I got into drugs." Sherlock said. "Becuase I couldn't handle her death." Sherlock put his sleeve back together, and pulled his coat on. The other two looked at him in shock. "My kids needed a better life than that." Sherlock picked up his coffee, and left the room. Sherlock went into his office, and found Kirsty doodling, and humming quietly to herself. Sherlock smiled.

"You're mother used to do that." Sherlock said. Kirsty turned around. "Hum to herself like that." Lestrade, who had been walking by the office, stopped. He listened to what Sherlock said. Even though Sherlock went in to close the door, he could still hear everything.

"What was she like? Mummy?" She asked. "My parents didn't know anything about her?"

"She had died before I put you up for adoption." Sherlock said, handing her the picture off his desk. "She was beautiful."

"Callum looks like Mummy. I always thought he did but I didn't know what she looked like. I can see it."

"Oh, Callum's always looked like your mother." Sherlock said, laughing. "When he was first born, he opened his eyes, and immediately, I knew his eyes matched hers. She insisted that your brother looked like me, until you were born." Kirsty giggled. "She used to read books, and she'd curl up in her chair, and read for hours. She'd be done, have to use the toilet desperately, was starving, and her legs were asleep, but she was finished with the book." Lily smiled.

"I do that." She said. "And Callum liked history."

"That's your mother. What about you, sweetheart, what's your favorite subject?"

"Chemistry. I'm going into collage to be a chemist." Sherlock grinned.

"Wonderful." He said. "That was mine."

"No way!" She bit her lip, itching to say something, but not sure if she should.

"What?"

"Do you do little experiments? Just to see the outcome, to satisfy your curiosity?"

"I do. I use body parts too." Sherlock said. Her eyes lit up.

"That's fascinating. I do just chemicals, but that sounds more interesting."

"I'll have to bring you home, show you what I do." They grinned identical grins.

Later that night, Sherlock and Lily got into his car, and headed towards Lily's house. They talked the entire way, catching up and laughing.

"Callum always did like weird people."

"Well, you should meet his girlfriend, she's a nutcase." Lily said. "I'm telling you, she's an activist for _everything_. Literally everything. She looks like an eccentric artist, but she's going to study computers. I don't understand her, and Callum adores her. He's all about Lydia." Lily rolled her eyes.

"You have a boyfriend?" Sherlock wasn't sure he wanted that answer.

"Yeah." She said, blushing and smiling. "He's the sweetest boy. His name is Calvin. It was his idea for me to make the move to come meet you myself." She said, squeezing his hand. "He's my first ever boyfriend. Dad isn't too happy." Sherlock squeezed her hand back.

"No, I understand." Sherlock did. Kirsty's father didn't like him until someone tried to mug her, and Sherlock put the guy in Barts for a month for touching her. "I'll have to meet this...Calvin." they pulled up in front of a house, where a boy Sherlock knew to be Callum was sitting out front, snogging the daylights out of an oddly dressed girl.

"Oh, Callum." Lily muttered. They clambered out of the car, after Sherlock turned it off. Two people came out.

"Lily, honey, we were wondering where you'd gotten too. Is your friend coming for dinner..." The couple were in shock. Sherlock was very relaxed, knowing how much he was disliked around this household.

"You." Steven, Lily's adopted father, was furious. "I thought I told you to stay away from here."

"Lily invited me." Sherlock said. "I wasn't coming here of my own accord." They locked into a staring match. Sherlock, who wasn't one for losing, easily one that round.

"Well, Sherlock, it's wonderful to see you again." Linda hugged him.

"Thank you, Linda." Callum was still wrapped around His girlfriend, but staring at Sherlock in shock.

"You're my father?" Sherlock looked at Callum, and nodded.

"Uh, yes, yes I am." Sherlock said. "I am biologically your father."

"Now I can see why your sister looks like a skinny, bony freak." Callum's girlfriend was too far away for the others to hear, but Sherlock could read lips, and had fantastic hearing. Immediately Sherlock disliked her. In fact, Sherlock wasn't sure he liked Steven either.

Just then, a car reading "Scotland Yard" down the side went past. Sherlock turned to see who got out. It was Lestrade.

"Isn't that your boss?"

"Yes."

"Look, Daddy." Sherlock turned to Lily. "I think we need to reschedule. Maybe you and I can have dinner somewhere else." They spoke quietly so nobody would hear them.

"Of course." Sherlock said. "In fact..." Sherlock pulled out a pen and his notebook. "Here's my address. You can come over for dinner, and I'll have you meet Molly and Jonah." He also scrawled out his mobile number, and gave her the paper. "Here you are, love." She pocketed it.

"Thanks Daddy. Get on over there." Sherlock smirked and felt his phone go off. He answered it.

"Detective Inspector Holmes." He said at full volume. The others looked surprised.

"Sherlock it's me."

"Oh, hello, Greg."

"This is your case. It's another body for the Johnson case." That brought the body count up to ten. Sherlock sighed.

"I'll be there." Sherlock said goodbye, and walked across the street, his long coat flowing behind him. Sherlock crossed the street, and found Callum behind him.

"You really are my father?" Sherlock nodded. "Cause, Dad says we're his kids now, not yours."

"Your father doesn't understand the meaning of the word 'biological.'" Sherlock said. They went closer.

"Freaks here." Donovan said. "Who's the kid?"

"Callum, my son." Sherlock said. "Callum, go back home."

"No, I want to see this. Lily says your good. Prove it." Sherlock rolled his eyes, and went through the caution tape.

"Well that was fast." He said.

"I was across the street." Sherlock said. "With Lily."

"Oh." He said. "I didn't see you there." He spotted Callum. "Your son?" Sherlock nodded.

"Callum, Greg, Greg, Callum." They both nodded once. Sherlock was snapping on gloves and taking off his coat. "Where?"

"Here." They went into the living room. There was blood spattered everywhere, and no furniture, or decorations.

"This place has been abandoned for two years. Why murder someone here?" Callum asked.

"Because they didn't think he'd get caught. This isn't the same. The poison kills them."

"Anderson, get a blood sample to Barts." Anderson went to get samples. Sherlock examined the bodies.

"How is this a Johnson case?"

"The ID." Lestrade handed Sherlock the evidence bag that contained the man's driver's license." Sherlock looked at it.

"Greg this is fake." Sherlock said. "You can tell, it's not quite the same plastic as a regular driver's license." Sherlock pulled out his own license for comparison. "It's laminated with different plastic." They looked at the differences. "This isn't a Johnson. Someone paid good amounts of money to get a fake ID to make us believe this is part of my case. It's either a copycat, or a red herring." Sherlock said. "They haven't published pictures of any of the bodies, so people didn't know what the killers MOD is." Sherlock said. Lestrade nodded.

"So, you mean that someone may or may not be trying to throw you off the scent of the actual killer?" Sherlock nodded.

"Quite correctly, Greg." Sherlock said. Callum looked at the two licenses. "What do you deduce, Callum?"

"This picture doesn't even look like that guy right there." Callum, who had a blue thing on (Sherlock never did remember the official names for those things) and a pair of gloves, went towards the body.

"Look, his head's not really blown off. This isn't a bullet wound."

"No, his chest was shot." Anderson said. Sherlock looked at it.

"Suicide." He looked at the note. "That's how he's here." Sherlock read the note. "He was in debt...with the Russian Mafia." Sherlock pulled out his reading glasses. The handwriting was too small without his glasses. He read through the note. He noticed that his eyes had been weakening sense the rescue of that boy.

"Sherlock, you okay?"

"No, my eyes aren't what they used to be. Soot damage." Sherlock muttered. He read through the note. "Oh, he's trying to get out of the Mafia."

"We like victims in the Mafia, don't we?" Lestrade asked. Sherlock looked at the note. Callum pushed up his glasses, and looked at the note.

"No, look, Dad." He pointed to the note. "He owes debts for a drug cartel too." Sherlock nodded. "But that doesn't make sense." Sherlock looked at the note. "Look at him, he doesn't have the evidence of a druggie."

"Doesn't mean he can't be a drug cartel lord." Sherlock replied.

"Aren't they usually junkies?"

"Usually, but they aren't always." Sherlock told his son. "Drugs are very expensive, they can make quite a bit of money off of drugs. This guy got in too far, and went in debt." Sherlock took off his glasses. His mobile rang. "Detective Inspector Holmes."

"Sherlock it's me."

"Oh, Molly." Sherlock said. "What is it?"

"I was just calling to say hi. It's what girlfriend's do." Sherlock's lips curled into a mischievous grin.

"What else do girlfriend's do, Molly?" He said in a low voice. Molly giggled.

"Sherlock, I'm at _work_." Sherlock chuckled, leaning against the doorframe.

"You have a girlfriend?" Callum asked. "What? The great Sherlock Holmes has a girlfriend?" Sherlock gestured to cut Callum off.

"Look, Molly, I'm on a case." Sherlock said. "Will I see you tomorrow?"

"Of course. What kind of girlfriend would I be if I didn't come over."

"There's someone I want you to meet. All right?" Sherlock looked around. "I love you."

"I love you." She said, giggling. "I have to go, Stamford just got back." They rang off.

"A girlfriend." Callum looked annoyed. "What about Mum?"

"Sherlock, whose this?" Inspector Lestrade asked.

"My son." He said.

"Oh my God, there's two of them." Sally said. "Sherlock Holmes reproduces?"

"Shut up. I'm done here." Sherlock said to Anderson. "Look Callum, we'll discuss this later. I need to get you home." Sherlock peeled his gloves off and dropped them into a garbage back. Callum took off the blue suit and his gloves, while Sherlock pulled his coat on. They went outside, and started across the street.

"What does my having a girlfriend have to do with your mother, Callum?"

"It's not right. You should be with Mum." Callum said angrily.

"Callum, I can't be with your mother." Sherlock said. "How much have those idiots told you?"

"Those idiots are my parents, Sherlock." Callum looked angry. "They've done a better job than you."

"Have they Callum? Have they really?" Sherlock knew his fellow officers were watching, but, somehow, he didn't seem to mind. It was dark, and the cold was making their breath into fine vapors around them. "I've sent you Christmas and birthday presents, letters, and pictures of memories before you were even theirs. Have they been able to tell you stories about your infancy? Did they know why you and your sister have the names that they do? Do they know what it was like to give birth to you?" Callum didn't answer.

"Why can't you be with Mum?" Callum asked. "I think I have the right to know that."

"They didn't tell you?" Sherlock asked, surprised, and furious.

"No, they just told me you're a druggie."

"Former drug addict, Callum. I've been clean for..." Sherlock thought. "Ten years. Besides," Sherlock took a breath. "I have a son now." Callum shook his head, and laughed once.

"You adopted someone else, but couldn't take us back."

"If I could have taken you guys back, Callum, believe me, I would." Sherlock said. "Your father wouldn't let me."

"Liar. They told me that you didn't want us."

"Do you really believe that, son?" Sherlock asked. "Your sister brought me home so I could meet you for the first time in sixteen years, Callum. I wanted to see you, son, but I couldn't, because your father forbid me."

"Dad wouldn't do that."

"But he did." The cops were moving closer. Lestrade moved closer towards them.

"Don't lie to me, Sherlock."

"I'm not." Sherlock said.

"Then why did you give me away, Sherlock? If you're such a great Dad, then why did you give me away?"

"Because I couldn't raise you!" Sherlock shouted. John came into view, but Sherlock ignored him. "I got into drugs, and I couldn't risk you being like me. I wanted a better life for you, Callum, and I couldn't have it." Sherlock and Callum had a stare down, tears welling up in Sherlock's eyes.

"Then why didn't you try to get us back? You claim you're such a great father, then why didn't you come back for me."

"Son, even if I did, you wouldn't come. I can see it all over you, I'm deducing it. You've been brainwashed by that man you call Dad." Sherlock said.

"Prove it, Detective!" Callum said.

"I'm not doing this Callum. I'm done." Sherlock went to walk away.

"Fight me like a man, then."

"I'm not fighting my son." Sherlock said. "I get it, you don't believe me." There were tears in his eyes still. "At least I tried."

"Tried what, Holmes?" Callum shouted. "You can't even own up to the truth!" Sherlock went to walk away. Lily was in her yard. "You can't even look at me and tell me what happened to my mother."

"She died Callum." Sherlock shouted back, turning back towards his son. "She was murdered." Callum looked shocked, and stumbled backwards once. "She was raped and beaten in Hyde Park. She died before I could get to her." Sherlock shouted back, tears running down his face. "You want to know why I got into drugs. I couldn't handle losing your mother. She was the only girl on this planet that made me feel alive. She made everything better." Sherlock shouted. "What do you want me to say, Callum?" Callum didn't move. He just stared at Sherlock. Everyone watched. He didn't look at anyone but the ground. Sherlock turned and ran.

"Sherlock." John called, running after him. Greg took off too.

"Callum, you're such a jerk." Lily said, running after Sherlock. Sherlock got into his squad car, and jammed his keys into his ignition. He threw the car in reverse and slammed his foot on the gas. He peeled out, and turned around, before tearing away from the street. He left Callum, Lestrade, and John behind. He left Lily, her adopted parents, and the other cops behind. He left behind forensics, and the almost possibility that his son may like him

For that precious few minutes in the house, he had been getting along with Callum. After that, Callum had blown up at him. Sherlock blew lights, stop signs, and people. He parked easily and turned off his car. He pulled his keys from the ignition, and ran inside. He flew up the stairs, and found Jonah. Mrs. Hudson usually left when he pulled in.

"You okay?" Jonah asked. He knew the answer. Sherlock collapsed to his knees, tears starting to fall again. He let out a strangled sob. Jonah ran at him and flung himself in Sherlock's arms.

"It's okay, Daddy. I still love you."

They sat there for a long time.


	27. The Scandal

Sherlock dropped Jonah off at school, and went into work. When he went through the door, everyone stopped. Anderson, Donovan, Lestrade, Stratford, Roger and Brenman watched him.

"Sherlock, you okay?" Lestrade asked.

"Fine." He said shortly.

"Are you sure?"

"I'm fine!" He snapped at Lestrade.

"I'm just trying to help." He said. The detective turned towards Lestrade.

"Well don't. Keep your meddling nose out of my business for once." Sherlock snapped, slamming the door to his office in his face. Lestrade turned to look at Roger, who was approaching. They looked worried. "You two Roger!" They both looked at one another, and turned back to their desks. Anderson opened the paper, and looked at the cover.

"Uh oh."

"What?" Donovan looked at the paper. "Oh my God. Sherlock." She took the paper to his office, and pounded on it. He opened the door.

"What?" He asked. She handed him the front page. He read it, and turned white.

_Detective Holmes Cheating?_

_Last night, leaving the Scotland Yard, newly promoted Detective Inspector Sherlock Holmes was seen last night walking out the door with an unfamiliar woman. He was also seen later, driving her through London to her home in Leeds. Sherlock was seen laughing with her, and later exchanging mobile numbers. Was he exchanging numbers?_

Sherlock went in his office, and picked up the phone off his desk. He dialed a number, and pressed it against his head. "Mycroft!"

"Sherlock?"

"Have you seen the papers?" Sherlock heard Mycroft heave himself up, and get it.

"Oh my. Who is that?"

"It's my daughter. I met Lily yesterday."

"I thought she seemed familiar." Mycroft said. "What she is up to?"

"That's not the point. You run the government, do something!" Sherlock said, slamming the phone down. "What are brother's good for if they can't stop the press from spreading lies!" Sherlock said.

"Uh, Sherlock?" Sherlock went into the main room, and found Molly storming in.

"Oh, God." Sherlock whimpered. "Molly, listen, I never-"

"Sherlock Holmes, I can't believe you!"

"Molly, it's not what you-" She slapped him across the face.

"Molly, listen to him, he's trying to explain."

"He better explain."Molly said. "Because he sure as hell as a lot of it to do. Sherlock Archibald James Holmes, you better explain yourself."

"Molly Anne Hooper, shut up so I can." Then he looked at Molly. "How did you learn my full name?"

"You're high school diploma is hanging in a frame in your bedroom at your parents home." Molly said. Sherlock was impressed.

"I'm impressed, you pay more attention than I had originally believed." Sherlock said. "She's not my lover."

"She better not be." Molly said.

"She's my daughter." Sherlock said, then watched as Molly started ranting.

"I knew you were..." She looked at him. He smirked slightly. "Daughter?" Sherlock nodded.

"Yes, Molly. My daughter." She grinned sheepishly.

"Oh. Oh my God, Sherlock, I'm so sorry." She wrapped her arms around him.

"It's all right Molly." Sherlock said, smirking at Lestrade. She let him go, and he straightened out his suit. "Molly, that's who you're going to meet tonight." Sherlock said. "Please, like I'd cheat on you." Sherlock walked away towards his office. Molly decided to follow. His mobile went off.

"Detective Inspector Holmes." Sherlock went into his office, and let Molly in, and closed the door.

"Daddy?"

"Oh, Lily." Sherlock sat down, and crossed his legs. Molly sat across from him at his office. "What did you need?"

"Apparently we're having an affair. Don't people like...realize the resemblance?"

"Evidently not." Sherlock said.

"Just curious. Did your girlfriend see the paper?"

"Yes, and I have the hand print on my right cheek to prove it."

"She didn't break up with you, did she?"

"Oh, heavens no." Sherlock said. "She let me explain it to her." Lily sighed in relief.

"Oh, good, because I went on Google last night and found pictures of you guys. You guys are sweet together."

"Thank you." Sherlock flushed. "I have to go, I'm working right now. You will be there tonight, correct?"

"Of course. I wouldn't miss it for the world." She said. "I have to go to class anyway." They hung up. Sherlock smiled at Molly, and stood up. She stood to join him.

"I know that smile." Sherlock grinned, and wrapped his arms around her waist. Molly wound her arms around Sherlock's shoulders, and they leaned in to kiss. Their lips collided in a searing kiss, and they started snogging. Right there. In Sherlock's office.

Lestrade walked in through the door, and found the couple snogging right where they stood. He smirked, snapped a picture, and walked away. Sherlock deepened the kiss by pulling her body closer to his. When the broke the kiss, Sherlock leaned in, and rested his head on hers. Molly buried her face into Sherlock's chest, and inhaled.

"You smell good." She muttered. He laughed quietly, and squeezed her tighter.

Later that night, Jonah, Molly, Sherlock, and Lily were having the dinner of a lifetime.

"How's your brother?" Sherlock asked, no trace of sadness in his face.

"He's been the biggest jerk sense last night." Lily said. "It's cause he's confused about who's right." Lily was quiet for a minute. "He's pissed because I'm siding with you."

"Why?"

"Dad's got him believing that you're a junkie with no life ahead of you. Mum heard how you answer your mobile. She knows you've got a title, and a life ahead of you. Dad's the kind of man to get stuck on the past. It get's old. To him, Callum is perfect." She pushed her alfredo around her plate. "To him, Callum is infallible, like he's Jesus or something." Sherlock nodded. Roger had grown up feeling like that at times, before his parents had died in that car crash. "But when I screw up, the world ends, and I'm grounded for life. I've never been Daddy's little girl. I've never been close to him. I've always wanted to meet you, because I never believed what he said about you. When I met you yesterday, I felt like your princess, your baby." Sherlock didn't know how to respond. "Last night, I knew, for the first time in...as long as I remember, what it was like to have a good father." Sherlock blushed. Molly was teary eyed. Sherlock looked at Lily, and reached across the table, and gripped her hand.

"Lily, honey, listen to me." Sherlock said. "Listen good. I love you, always have, always will. I will. Don't you forget it. You will always be my princess, my little girl. You are always welcome for a visit. Unfortunately, we don't have the room for you to stay overnight." Lily smiled.

"She can have my room for a night." Jonah said. "We're technically brother and sister." Lily giggled.

"You are the sweetest, most adorable little boy ever." Sherlock smiled when Jonah blushed. "Thank you, but I don't have to stay the night." Jonah smiled shyly.

"Will you still come see us?"

"Of course, Jonah. You're my family, I wouldn't miss it." Jonah grinned. Molly smiled. Sherlock, who had retracted his hand from Lily's, and grabbed Molly's hand. Lily smiled shyly at Molly.

"So, what exactly do you do at Barts? Daddy wasn't very specific."

"I'm a pathologist. I do blood tests, and DNA tests and such. I also do autopsies. I work with Sherlock a lot because he's always there for murder victims and his experiments."

"That's interesting. You know, my brother really wants to go into that, maybe you could get him in the student program?"

"Absolutely, I can get you an application, and he could learn the ropes for an internship. I know a lot of colleges like internships."

"Yes, Cal would love that." She said.

"What about...Calvin?"

"My boyfriend? He wants to be a chemical engineer." She said. "Or a video game programer, whichever is the bigger challenge." Lily said, rolling her eyes. "I'm pretty sure that's why he asked me out, because he thought it would be a challenge." Sherlock didn't like that. "Then when I said yes, he fainted, came to, and had an asthma attack because of my perfume." Lily laughed. _Sounds like me._ Sherlock mused.

"Well, how did you two meet?" Molly asked. "If you don't mind me asking."

"No, not at all." She said. "Calvin and I were in book club together, and we were always in the same group discussions. He liked to compliment my responses, and he was always a gentleman." She looked at Sherlock. "He holds open doors, and helps me into my coat, and makes me feel like a princess. Calvin helps me with my homework, and makes my sadness go away. Daddy, you'd approve."

"I'd very much like to meet this Calvin." Sherlock said stiffly. Molly rolled her eyes. Lily gave him a withering look.

"You act like he's a murderer. Daddy, he has pajamas with the Periodic Table of Elements on them." She said. "His obsessions are Doctor Who, the Big Bang Theory, and Harry Potter. He's grandmaster of his chess team, and he's valedictorian of our graduating class. For college." Lily looked at him. "He's a major Mummy's boy, and-"

"What's wrong with that?" Sherlock got defensive.

"I'm saying that he's not dangerous." She said. "Why?"

"He's a Mummy's boy." Jonah said. "If I had a Mummy, I would be too." Sherlock and Molly looked at one another. Lily smiled warmly at Jonah.

"Who need's mother's when you have an awesome Dad like Sherlock." Lily asked. Sherlock flushed, and Jonah giggled. Molly squeezed his hand.

"Lily, before I forget, I've been given a knighting."

"What?!" Lily exclaimed. "You didn't say that!"

"Well, it's being kept very quiet. We're having a party, so if you and this... Calvin... would like to come, please come."

"Would I have to have a date?"

"There will be dancing. And, see if your brother will come. But..." He looked at her. "Make sure he brings a different girl." Lily laughed.

"Please, she insulted me, he's not going back out with her." Lily said. Sherlock smiled.

For the first time in 20 years, Sherlock finally felt like everything was back to almost-normal.

**Sorry, these are so OOC, but that's why it's called fanfiction, right? This would have been updated yesterday, but I was watching the Emmys last night and getting very depressed. So, an update didn't happen. Go Maggie Smith, though, she won for Downton Abbey (ironic, seeing as she wasn't actually able to make it there for the award). But I think it's awesome.**


	28. The Knighting

Sherlock went into the lab at Barts a week later, and found Callum peering through a microscope. Molly came in.

"Oh, hey." She said, kissing him.

"Molly, I need the next body for my case." Sherlock said. She tossed him a pair of gloves, and they went into the morgue. She opened the drawer and left him to it. Sherlock looked over it, and rubbed his face with his hands. Sherlock studied the cadaver, and looked at the report Molly had written up. Callum shifted uncomfortably. Lily came in, and saw Sherlock, the went to Callum. They argued quietly for a few minutes. Sherlock was oblivious, his mind, like always, on his case. Sherlock was stressing, if he wasn't noticing _everything_.

The door opened, and Sherlock glanced up at Lily, then grinned. "What are you doing here?"

"Molly told me I could try my own hand at the lab equipment, see if I like it. If I do, I might just become her assistant." She said, hugging Sherlock.

"Blood sample, Sherlock." Molly called.

"Thanks, Molly." Sherlock went in, and laid the file down, sitting at his usual microscope. John came in.

"You make a breakthrough on this case, yet?"

"Everywhere I go, it's a dead end." Sherlock said, looking at John. "Mycroft is even wracking his brains." Sherlock said. John looked at the file. He swore.

"Sherlock, you know this isn't getting easier for you, right?"

"Obviously, John." Sherlock said, speaking rather dryly. Callum looked through his microscope, silent. "I would be at Jonah's class party today if I wasn't so busy with this case." Sherlock said. Even though he was on recovery, he was still working as hard.

"This could be the reason Mycroft had a heart attack." John said. "You need this knighting party tomorrow night. Sherlock didn't respond. John went to look at the body.

"So...a knighting." Callum said. "For saving the life of the prime minister's kid?" Sherlock nodded.

"So you're suddenly speaking to me?"

"Lily can be quite persuasive when she wants to be." Callum said. Sherlock laughed.

"So was your mother." Sherlock said. "She could threaten me enough to scare me for anything." He went quiet.

"What was Mum like?" Callum asked. "I know I look like her. But that's it."

"She was beautiful. That's where you kids get your looks, is from your mother's heartbreaking beauty." Sherlock said. John and Lestrade walked in, and froze. "She was the only one to see past everything that was wrong with me, and saw who I really was. She was the first person to see me...completely open, and completely myself." Sherlock said, looking at the lab table, but not seeing it. He gave a rather breathy snort, and smiled slightly. "She once tricked your Uncle into thinking that there were angry chickens out to get him. To this day, he still doesn't eat chicken." They laughed. Lestrade smirked and John was grinning. _Only Mycroft._

"What happened? The night she died?" Callum asked. "My dad forbid my mum form telling me."

"She was supposed to be going out with friend, and she hadn't come back. She wasn't answering her mobile, and she was scarring me. I went out to look for her. I got a call from Officer Lestrade, who told me she was in Hyde Park, dying. I ran until I got there, and she'd already died." Sherlock and Callum went quiet. "After that, I just snapped." Callum nodded.

"No, I get it." He looked guilty. "Listen, I'm sorry for...what I said. I know I shouldn't have. Lily talked a lot of sense into me that night." He laughed. "She sure can lecture. It's like a strict teacher." They laughed. "But she's right. I wasn't willing to give you a chance. I didn't get to meet the real you, only the working you. And, I don't know what happened."

"I understand. You weren't told anything about your mother?"

"Not a thing. Kirsty uncovered it from Mum, but Dad wasn't going to tell us. He wants us to think they're the only people who love him. It made me angry when he said I was never to aknowledge you as my blood father." Sherlock liked that Callum was angry about that. "I suppose it makes sense, he didn't know the story, but...you really gave us up so we could be happy?"

"Healthy, happy, not with a broken down father like me. Of course, Cal. I never would have just given you away. Not without a purpose." Callum grinned.

"Thanks, Dad." Callum said, grinning. They grinned for a minute.

"So, I'm being forced to attend a more than likely dreadfully dull party for my knighting. You and Lily are invited. Bring a date...although, preferably one that won't insult your sister."

"Please, I dumped her the next morning after she did. I'll bring Alexi, she's been my best friend for as long as I can remember." Sherlock deduced it in a heartbeat.

"Alexi's the one you really like, isn't she?" Callum blushed. "It's my job to know these things, son, I'm your father." Lestrade walked in. "Another?"

"No, I just came for the lab results." Oh... Sherlock looked towards Molly, and went back to his microscope in silence.

Sherlock went into his parents house, ready for a weekend of working on his case in peace, when he noticed a figure in his family room.

"Prince Harry." Sherlock said, bowing as much as his still-sore back allowed him. "Pleasure to make your acquaintance."

"Pleasure's all mine, Mr. Holmes. We were just looking for a band. Our's called to cancel."

"What if mine plays?" Archie asked. Archie, three boys, and one girl all played in one band. "All we really do is covers right now, just to get our name out."

"That's perfectly wonderful by me." Archie grinned.

"Sweet. Our bass guitarist quit, so we're auditioning for a new one. It should be a good gig." Harry promptly left.

"I never consented to that, Archibald."

"I'm eighteen, Father, you don't need to consent to anything." Archie said, glaring. "Archie is legally free to do as he damn well pleases."

"Archie, you really shouldn't talk to your father like that." Lucinda said.

"Like I said, I'll do what I want. I don't even live with you two anymore." Sherlock hadn't known that. "So, like I've said a hundred times over, stay out of my fucking business." Archie walked off, fuming. They all looked at one another.

"Well, that could have gone better." Alfonse said, coming into the room. "Unless you're intentions were to make him that angry with you, then you did a splendid job." Mycroft looked at Alfonse, and, before any of them knew it, they were all bursting out laughing.

The night of Sherlock's knighting, Sherlock had asked Molly to come to 221B when she was ready. Mrs. Hudson would be coming, and taking Jonah and Sally home after the ceremony. She had insisted, despite Roger and Sherlock both protesting to find another babysitter.

Jonah was in the living room, ready, while Sherlock was still pulling on his tuxedo. He had saved it from John's wedding. He was tying the bow tie, when Molly was heard coming up the stairs.

"Wow, Molly, you look really pretty."

"Thanks, sweetie. Where's your dad?"

"He's in his bedroom, getting ready." Jonah said. "He's almost done." Sherlock finally picked up his comb, and slicked back his hair, enough where it wasn't plastered to his head, but his curls weren't entirely unruly. Sherlock finally made his way out to the living room, and brushed invisible dirt from his coat sleeves. His coat tails were swaying with each step. Sherlock looked up, and his eyes went wide.

"Molly." Her long, blue gown fit to her frame, hugging her curves and accenting every inch of her body. Sherlock also noticed she wore high heels, and her make up had been expertly done. Molly looked...like an angel.

"Molly Jane Hooper, aren't we looking absolutely gorgeous tonight?" He asked, completely out of character for him. Jonah grinned.

""Why, thank you Sherlock." She blushed. "You look...amazing yourself." Sherlock had watched her battle for the right words, saw it in her eyes. His cheeks tinged with a light pink color. Jonah giggled. Mrs. Hudson came upstairs.

"Look at you two! Oh, let me take a picture!" Mrs. Hudson took the digital camera Molly handed her, and they posed together. Sherlock also had Jonah join them for a second picture. "Oh, how adorable!" Mrs. Hudson gushed.

"Thank you, Mrs. Hudson." Molly said, taking back the camera, and taking a snapshot of Jonah by himself.

"And, I must say, Mrs. Hudson, you look beautiful this evening." Sherlock pressed a kiss to her cheek. She flushed bright red.

"Oh. Sherlock, you're too sweet." He grinned, and pulled her into a hug.

"Dad, why don't you take a picture of you two together? Grandma would love that." Sherlock nodded, and stood next to Mrs. Hudson, and wrapped an arm around her. She wrapped her arm around him. They both smiled, Sherlock nearly sarcastically, and Mrs. Hudson grinning like it was Sherlock's wedding day. Lestrade and Megan came up then.

"The Yard's here for the escort, and Mycroft said that he's coming with the limo in ten. John and Mary are coming up."

"Group picture of the adults when Uncle Mycroft get's here?" Jonah asked. Sherlock sighed.

"If you insist Jonah." Jonah grinned. Sherlock took the camera, and looked through Molly's pictures. He found one of the two of them laughing at John's party, before they...

Sherlock had a great idea.

"Molly, how about a second picture. The first one may not appeal to my mother's standards, and you know how she is about pictures." John, Lucy, and Mary came in, followed by Mycroft and Lucinda. They were early, as usual.

"Certainly." She said, coming in next to him. Sherlock had around Molly's waist, and her's immediately went around Sherlock's upper back. Lestrade took the camera. Mycroft was suspicious of his brother's actions. Just before the camera took the picture, Sherlock grabbed Molly by the next, and crushed his lips to hers. The room cheered.

"Nice one, mate." Lestrade said, punching Sherlock in the upper arm, and handing him back the picture. "You're mum really going to want that?"

"Don't be stupid, my mother would plan our wedding day if she saw that." Sherlock said. Molly laughed.

"God, she sounds like my mum." She said, giggling. "Except my mum would be having us already moved in together, married, and on our way to our honeymoon within the month." Sherlock smirked.

"My mother in a nutshell." Sherlock said. Mycroft smirked. "We all here?" Roger was meeting them there, as he had to pick his daughter up from a relative's of Anna's, and would be closer to their destination. Archie's band had to set up early. Lily, Callum, and Calvin had decided to go with them. Alexi couldn't make it. He mysteriously had another date, and Sherlock had a sneaking suspicion who it was. Mycroft had gotten them a second limo to their destination. They all piled in, and Mycroft was checking to make sure someone would be available to drive Mrs. Hudson, Sally, and Jonah home for the night once they left. Sherlock sat next to Molly, legs crossed, one hand on her lower thigh, the other in his lap. Jonah and Lucy talked about their schools. Lucy was looking nervous, and excited. Mycroft and Lucinda spoke in low voices. John and Mary were sharing a romantic moment, complete with a tender kiss, and a romantic chuckle as they broke apart. Mrs. Hudson, Lestrade and Megan were talking about Megan's latest story. Sherlock was content with sitting silently with Molly. They were often found sitting in a contented silence, happy with just each others company alone.

"I didn't tell you." Molly whispered in his ear. "I think you look sexy." Sherlock was surprised at her boldness. He smirked at her.

"Oh, do you know?" He asked, a wolfish, yet devilishly handsome grin across his face. She was grinning back.

"Yes, I do." Sherlock leaned in, dropping his voice not only in several decibels, but in several octaves as well.

"Well, you know what I think?" He asked, and people, although they were still talking, were definitely watching.

"What do you think?"

"I think you're right." Molly pulled away.

"Sherlock, way to ruin the moment!" She said. Sherlock burst out laughing. Molly looked affronted, but, because Sherlock was laughing so hard, she had to join in.

"Molly, the look on your face is absolutely priceless. I love you." He said. Normally, they were very private about their relationship, although Sherlock was very blunt with her.

"Do you really?" She asked, sarcasm dripping from her words. She knew he loved her.

"Yes." He said, looking back up at her. He stopped to marvel at her beauty. "Don't you ever doubt it." Sherlock looked at her for a moment, leaned in, and whispered. "And God only knows how much" before connecting his lips tenderly with hers. John and Mrs. Hudson smirked at one another, while Lestrade and Mycroft knuckle-touched behind Megan's back.

When they got there, they went inside, turned their coats in to Coat Check, and went inside the first room, where the ceremony would be. There was a throne set, and pews lined up, facing the thrones. Several rows in the front were marked of for Sherlock's family. That included Molly and Mrs. Hudson. Sherlock was to sit on the very end. He had Molly sit next to him, then Jonah.

"You okay?" Sherlock looked at Molly.

"I don't like big crowds." Sherlock said. She figured it was his Autism that made him hate big crowds.

"Don't worry, honey." Molly said. "It'll be fine." Sherlock liked that. _Honey._ He thought rather smugly. _I could get used to that._

People filed in. Dukes, Duchesses, Lords, Ladies, Earls, and...the female equivalent (if there is one), family, friends, Sherlock's parents, Archie and his band (a group of two other boys who he recognized ,but didn't know their names), Parliament, and the Prime Minister's family.

Everyone stood when the Queen came through. Sherlock took a deep breath. He wasn't calming his nerves. He was preparing himself for the very large crowd. He was to make a speech at the party, before Archie started playing. They also did requests, as all they did right now were covers (great practice, and a good start).

"Good evening." Queen Elizabeth said, looking around to everyone.

"Good evening." Everyone chorused back. There was a long speech made from the Prime Minister, thanking Sherlock for his heroic deeds. Sherlock was slightly pink in the face, but whether it was from pleasure at the compliments, or embarrassment at the amount of recognition he was receiving, Molly wasn't sure. Jonah, to Sherlock's surprise, had been very still.

"We would like to invite Mr. Sherlock Holmes forward at this time." Sherlock came forward, and stood before Queen Elizabeth and Prince Charles. He bowed as much as his injuries would allow, which was barely more than an incline of his head. "Mr. Holmes has done such a great honor, that his injuries still prevent him from a full bow. Will it be uncomfortable for you to stand?"

"No, Your Majesty." He replied with quietly, his deep, baritone voice filling the silent room.

"Very well." She lead them in prayer, and gave a small speech, and invited Sherlock to get on one knee. Like he was proposing. He rested his hands on his leg, unsure of where else to place them.

"Sherlock Holmes," She began, "Do you accept this honor?"

"I do."

"And will you use this title for good?"

"I will."

"And will you continue your courageous work until you are physically incapable too?"

"I will." Sherlock said. It was a bit like marital vows, or baptismal vows, like at Archie's baptism.

"Sherlock Archibald James Holmes," She said, touching a long staff to each of his shoulders, "I know have formally knighted thee. Please stand, and face the crowd." He eased himself up (with the assistance of Prince William, after a moment of clutching his lower back in pain (_Must be time for my pain medication.)_ and wincing). "Let us all stand, and congratulate Sir Sherlock Holmes." Sherlock, hands clasped behind his back, faced the crowd, and he had eyes on his Molly. She grinned back. Lily and Callum were grinning equally hard. Sherlock smiled, and looked at Jonah, who's thin face and bright green eyes were full of pride and love. Sherlock grinned back at Jonah, and felt a sash dropped on his shoulders. It looked really formal, one he really hoped he didn't have to wear at family gatherings (family of his were in Parliament, and they often had parties with the entire Parliament in them).

"Sherlock, go ahead and sit. I don't want you messing up your back any more." They had brought out a more comfortable chair for him, and he eased into it, nearly sighing in relieve when he found the armchair to be soft, and comfortable. Molly smirked at him, and he smiled back.

After a closing speech, the group (Mycroft and Sherlock being assisted to their feet, Mycroft by a cane he often used for moments he'd need assistance getting up (he really wished he didn't have that heart attack), and Sherlock by Lestrade) made their way into a vast, elegent ballroom, where a stage was already set up, the guitar stands sporting the guitars, a keyboard, microphone stands, and a drum set. Sherlock made his way into the ballroom, and found people he knew. Cousins, for example.

"Roger." Sherlock said warmly.

"Sherlock." They embraced, albiet a bit of reluctance from Sherlock. "Congratulations, mate."

"Thank you, Roger." Anna hugged him, and then scooped up Sally. Sherlock couldn't pick up Jonah, so the boy had opted for clinging to Sherlock's leg when they remained motionless.

"Your back okay?" John asked.

"Yes, I just need my pain medication." Sherlock said. John nodded, and told Molly. She handed it over, and John gave him the pills. Sherlock approached the bar, and asked if he could have a glass of water for his medication. They handed it over, and Sherlock swallowed the pills. The royal family sat at the head table, where Sherlock and Molly, as his partner, were to join him. Normally, it would be his wife. But, that required a marriage that Sherlock had yet to be part of.

"Sir Holmes, your speech." Prince Harry said, before returning to the table. Sherlock nodded once at nobody, and went to the stage. He stood at the microphone for the lead signer, which he knew to be Archie. The band would be playing after dinner. Sherlock saw the group of teenagers he knew at one large table.

"Good evening."

"Good evening." Sherlock swallowed.

"I do apologize if I seem unlike myself, my back was in pain, and, although the chiropractic work is fixing the injury, it still hurts from time to time. Therefore, I now have pain medication in my system." Everyone laughed. "First of all...I'd like to thank you all for coming." Sherlock hadn't wanted to say that, but Molly told him he had to. "Especially family, and the extremely small number of people I call friends. Family like my cousin Roger, who knows far more embarrassing things about me than I really care to admit." Sherlock was surprised by the laugh. He hadn't realized it was a joke. He liked the response though. "My brother Mycroft, his wife Lucinda, and his son Archie, who leads tonight's entertainment." Sherlock felt himself relax. He liked the stage. _It's just acting. Like the plays and musicals at school Roger always talked you into doing._ Sherlock told himself. "To John, my blogger, and he might as well be family, we lived together, didn't we?" People laughed. "My wonderful sons, Jonah and Callum, and my daughter Lily. My parents, and my girlfriend Molly. My friend Superintendent Greg Lestrade, and my wonderful landlady...housekeeper, mother figure person Mrs. Hudson." Nobody laughed harder than John. Sherlock looked at Roger, who had helped him with his speech. Roger gave him a nod of encouragement.

"I'm here tonight because of something I did. I never wanted the recognition that I got for it, but when you're in your parents living room, and Prince William and Her Majesty are suddenly escorted in by the butler, you aren't exactly able to turn down an offering of Knighthood." People laughed again. "One of the more frequently asked questions I get are 'how did you do it?'" Sherlock, who's hands were clasped behind his back, pulled his hands to the front of him, and beckoned to Jonah, who knew his queue, and joined his father. "I want you to meet my son, Jonah. Jonah is adopted, and he's definitely proud of that. I took Jonah in for a lot of reasons, but one of the biggest ones, is he healed a wound in my chest that has been there for a very long time. Well, he partially healed it." Sherlock dropped a hand to Jonah's curly black hair. "Jonah, from the second I brought him home, became a son to me, without us having known each other for very long. Jonah is the reason I saved that boy. I saw a scared, little seven year old boy, and my thought was 'what if that were Jonah? Would somebody be brave and rescue him?' I knew I couldn't just leave him to die. It would be cruel, and somehow I'd never forgive myself if I didn't try. Without thinking, I ran up the stairs, wearing a mask, and saved him. I may have aquired several injuries, but I can assure you that if I saw it again, I'd do it in a heartbeat. It's Jonah who should be deserving of some thanks as well. For him...well, yes, I'd have done it, but it was him to made me realize there are better reasons than calling it a simple case and being done with it." Sherlock silently sent Jonah back to his seat. "Thank you, son. And thank you all, for coming here tonight." Sherlock left then, and everyone clapped. He slid into his seat next to Molly, and they clutched hands under the table.

"Good job!" She said, kissing him.

After a six course dinner (bread, salad, pasta, spinach-stuffed chicken and pork chop, a small desert of vanilla ice cream with chocolate sauce poured over it (Molly's favorite) and finally coffee), when Archie and his band got up. To Sherlock's surprise, Callum joined him.

"All right, here we go. This one's going to start us off for the night." They played a fast song Sherlock wasn't sure he knew, and Sherlock decided he wanted to wait a minute. As they stood, Sherlock was approached by an all-to-familiar face.

"Professor Miller." Sherlock greeted warmly. Professor Miller had taken his father's Earl title. "How are you?"

"Splendid. How are the kids?"

"Wonderful."

"And Kirsty?" Sherlock looked at him.

"Professor Miller, Kirsty passed away." Shock ran through Professor Miller's face.

"I'm so sorry. Sherlock, I didn't know." Somehow, Sherlock wasn't surprised that he hadn't known. He was in Tibet when it happened.

"It's all right, it was twenty years ago." Sherlock said. "This is my girlfriend, Doctor Molly Hooper from the mortuary of St. Barts." Professor Miller and Molly shook hands. Jonah ran at Sherlock, and Lily was soon following.

"Lily, my dear." Sherlock held her in a warm hug. "Don't we look beautiful this evening?" Lily blushed.

"Thanks, Daddy." She kissed his cheek, and looked him up and down. "You aren't looking so bad yourself." Sherlock blushed. Professor Miller exchanged knowing smirks to Molly.

After hours and hours of dancing, socialising (to Sherlock's displeasure), there were only a few people left. The band, Prince William, his wife Kate, Prince Harry, and a few cousins, Sherlock, Molly, Roger, Mycroft, Lucinda, Sherlock's parents, John, Mary, Megan, Lestrade, Lily, her boyfriend (that Sherlock had deduced and liked, surprisingly) Lucy, and sevral people Sherlock already forgot the names to.

Sherlock and Molly were dancing close, Sherlock had gotten the courage to move his arms, to wrap themselves around her waist, and Molly's had moved to wrap around his neck. They swaayed to the music.

_I don't mind spending everyday  
Out on your corner in the pouring rain  
Look for the girl with the broken smile  
Ask her if she wants to stay awhile  
And she will be loved  
She will be loved_

Sherlock and Molly had sang along, and, due to the higher pitch, Molly and Sherlock being unable to sing that high, both sang a bit off key, and they were laughing. When it came around again, they sang along together, and were still off key, so they laughed again. After that, Archie came down for a dance, and another song came on.

_That it's too late to apologize.  
It's too late...  
I said it's too late to apologize.  
It's too late.  
Yeah! _

Molly sang along, and was loving the song. Sherlock had looked over, and, surprised, found Archie with is arms wrapped around Lucy, and they were slowly dancing. _Explains the nerves. She must have been worried by reactions. Mycroft doesn't seem to mind much. Mycroft's actually dancing with Lucinda? Wow, that's a first sense their wedding. Oh, John's not looking happ.y Calvin's behaving with Lily, and they're laughing. Oh, good. He wouldn't dare try anything tonight. He's afraid of me. Somehow, I'm okay with that fear._ Sherlock pulled Molly closer, and kissed the spot where her neck met her shoulder, before leaning his head on the top of hers.

That's when Lucy sneakily snapped the picture.

_Kodak Moment, anyone? _She thought, as Archie snickered, and they high fived.

**I am soo sorry this has taken so long. I've been unmotivated, sick, and stuck in writers block. I hope this makes up for it. **

**I don't mean to offend anyone who's been knighted if I got the info wrong. My Google Search came up with medieval knighthood ceremonies, and I'm pretty sure 21****st**** century Sherlock isn't medieval. So that didn't work. I made it up. **

**Also, I'm doing a bunch of series of one shots of the different couples. Please feel free to request, but PM with those so I can keep better track of who wanted what, and so I don't have to hunt for the suggestions. **

**Fell free to always contact me on Twitter, and any other page I have on my profile. **

**Also, sorry for the delay on my prequel. That will most likely have a rare update until this is finished. I'm currently using it to help my writer's block (much like the one shots, and another project that I'm secretly working on). Thanks for the 51 reviews, you guys are amazing. **

**Also, go check out my YouTube page. I just posted my second video today. I have a grand total of three subscribers, and I'm sure they won't comment. One guy, I'm pretty sure, doesn't speak English. Which kinda sucks, when you're hoping for a review. Oh, well. **

**Okay...I think I'm done.**

**Lol, sorry guys, my brain is fried. If this makes no sense, don't even worry. It's midnight, and I've gotta get up early for church. Oops. **

**Oh, yes! Later (not for a few chapters) there will be an increase in the ratings. I normally am not a smut writer, so if the scene is bad...very bad, please be nice. This isn't a major plot giveaway, because I haven't said if it's characters engaging in smuttyness, or if it's a story, or what * evil grin *. However, I was reading a fan fiction today that an anon had apparently reported, because of the amount of... eroticism was in it. Mind you, it was Johnlock. I'm not a Johnlock shipper at all, let's make this clear now, but I liked this fan fiction. And so, I'll be writing warnings to when the scene approaches, at the beginning of the chapter I'll warn you of the actions of a certain person (depending on who's in the story in what situation) so that you know, and will skip if you so chose. However, if I'm not planning on taking very far (i.e scene change, interruption (what torturous fun! Poor characters...) that sort of thing) then there will be no warning, because it's not really all that smutty to make out with someone, then suddenly, they're at lunch at work all like "I like cheese sandwiches." **

**Okay, I really need some sleep. Yikes. I do apologize for the long message, but I hate those chapters that are just authors notes. So, anyway, there you have it! **

**Let's hope I don't fall asleep in church tomorrow. That would be...really bad...**


	29. The Mission

**Hey guys! Sorry for the incredibly long authors note before, I just had so much stuff to tell you all about the upcoming...yeah. And, if you read the last chapter, go back and read it. It's imperative that you do. I somehow didn't have anything that I had written uploaded, but it was all saved. I'm thinking because I now have it all saved on my flash drive. So, there's that.**

**And, well, I'll attempt to get some writing done, lol. I'm on Skype with a friend. So, this should be interesting.**

Sherlock was sitting in his office, pouring over his evidence and pictures, when the phone on his desk began to ring.

"Detective Inspector Holmes." Sherlock said.

"Sherlock, it's me." Mycroft said.

"Oh." Sherlock sounded displeased. "What do you need? You called me at work, it must be important."

"I think I know how you can solve this Johnson case." Sherlock sat up.

"Oh?"

"Yes, and it'll require you, Inspector Stratford, John, and Lestrade. I'll be going as well." Sherlock started putting everything back into the file.

"Tell me more, brother." Sherlock said.

"Simple, really. We're going to Germany to find the group of gentlemen who have been killing your Johnson's." Sherlock found that line slightly amusing, but realized the situation at the same time.

"Murderers? As in, more than one?"

"Must I repeat myself, brother? Yes, more than one." Sherlock paled slightly. "I've informed the others, they're on their way to my office now." Sherlock dropped the phone in it's cradle, pulled on his coat, grabbed the file, snatched up his keys, and went out the door. Sherlock locked the door behind him, and left.

"Where you going?" Roger asked. Sherlock ignored him, and went out to the back. He ran into the parking structure, and unlocked his car with the clicker, before he got in, and jammed the key into the ignition. He dropped his file on the seat, and backed out, threw the car into forward, and drove off.

His first stop was Baker Street. Sherlock grabbed his laptop, and flew out the door again. He got back into his car, and pulled out, and drove the half an hour to Mycroft's office. Once he got there, Sherlock grabbed his laptop, case file, and made sure his gun was in the holster (in the back of his pants) and got out. He locked the car, and ran up to the front. The secretary who _wasn't_ Anthea (Anthea had been away on business for Mycroft) wasn't going to let him in without ID. She had done it to him before.

"DI Holmes, let me through." He snarled, flipping his badge at her, and bursting through the door.

"Good timing." Lestrade said. Sherlock sat down.

"You came prepared. Good." They were at a long table. Sherlock knew that through the door to the left was a bathroom, and the door to the right was Mycroft's actual office. This was more of a planning room. Sherlock booted up his laptop, and shoved the case file at Mycroft. He looked over it from his chair.

"Set it up like only you know how, Sherlock." John said. "Display it so we can all see it." Sherlock wordlessly got up, grabbed the file, and pinned each picture to the bulletin board. HE sat back down, and crossed his legs.

"Good, good. We know these are our victims. Three teenagers, four women, and five adults." The number was increasing rapidly. "And two red herring deaths." Sherlock nodded. He was thinking.

"We'll need back up." Lestrade said. "Are we going to have some." Sherlock looked at Inspector Stratford, who was wearing a suit, rather than his uniform.

"Yes. I's Agent J from MI5, and we'll be helping. This guy attacked the Prime Minister's grandson, who is related to the Queen."

"What do they have to do with it?" Sherlock asked.

"The boy's last name is Johnson." Sherlock looked up in surprise.

"Is it?" Another man, auburn hair, green eyes, bespectacled, and wearing a tie, sweater vest, and a dress shirt, had his fingers steepled together.

"It is indeed, Sir Holmes." He said. "It's become a matter of national security, and therefore, we need our best man on the job. Of course, he needs his best colleagues as well."

"The only problem is, they know. The Bandits, they call themselves." Stratford said. He looked uncomfortable. Whatever he had to say next, would not appeal to Sherlock. "This means that your girlfriend, your sons and daughter, everyone is in danger." Sherlock didn't move. "As are Doctor Watson's family, and Superintendent Lestrade's family."

"My suggestion was sending everyone to Holmes Estate." Mycroft said. "Archibald and Lucinda will already be there." Sherlock nodded, thinking.

"Molly will like that. Roger?"

"His family was already invited for the weekend."

"Lucy is actually out for the weekend at a friends, it'll just be Mary. Her and Molly can hang out." Sherlock nodded curtly once.

"I've spoken to her boss, who has obliged to get Molly out of work for the weekend. I know Mary is free this weekend?" John nodded. "And what of Megan, Greg?"

"She's finished her stories for the week, so she'll be free."

"Good. We can pull Jonah from school altogether on Friday. Mrs. Hudson can go as well. Better safe than sorry." Sherlock nodded again. "Did you know that Alfonse is her 'gentleman caller'?" Sherlock smirked.

"Of course I did, it was transparent." Sherlock said.

"Alfonse...isn't that your parent's butler?" Lestrade asked.

"Yes." Sherlock said. "Before you ask, it was his cologne. She reeks of it when she comes home." John sighed.

"That's a little less information I could have gone without knowing about your landlady." Sherlock ignored him.

"Well, now that we have that settled. Agent R, what do we need to do first?"

"We've received the samples from Barts lab. If Sir Holmes would kindly go with us to headquarters, we'll take him to our labs, and he can do more tests, to see what else he can find about the fingerprints."

"Do your archive's hold everyone's names?"

"In England, most certainly. The Bandits are English natives. We'll also introduce you to our backup team. You drove here, so give Lestrade your keys, and he'll take your car back. We'll take you to MI5."

"How did you know I drove here?"

"You were in a rush, and hadn't put your keys in your pocket when you came in. Elementary, really, Mr. Holmes." Agent R stood up. "I hope you don't have an aversion to heights." Sherlock smirked, after his moment of dumbfoundedness.

"You're asking the wrong man, Agent R." Sherlock said, scooping up his laptop. He tossed Lestrade the keys, and followed the two agents to the helicopter pad on the roof. They all clambered in, pulled on helmets and microphones, seatbelts, and checked their saftey gear. They lifted off, and flew towards the buildings.

In twenty minutes, they had landed, and caught a cab another twenty minutes away. The led Sherlock to a Vaccuum shop, where the two agents flashed their badges, and were nodded through. Sherlock was lead through a hall, and to a janitor's closet, where they were lifted down, into a vast lobby. In the lobby, there was a secretary, bored, and buzzing them in. They went through to a large room, and Sherlock found a few more people in there.

"Sir Holmes, Agent R, Agent J, glad you could get here in such vital time. How's Mycroft?" Leave it to Mycroft to know the employees at MI5 personally.

"Well, sir, sense his heart attack."

"Good, very good." He bore resemblance to Agent R."

"Head Agent J." Another man walked into the room, and greeted the man who was just speaking.

"Senior Agent J." He replied back. _You have _got_ to be kidding me._

"All right, listen up, Sir Holmes-"

"Please, call me Sherlock."

"All right, then, Sherlock here is going to assist us with our case. He will be in charge of any lab work, and he also will be the one to figure this out. This is his case we're intruding on." Sherlock looked at him. "Sherlock, you will be teaming up with our MI5 team. You are familiar with weapons, I presume."

"He's armed." Agent R drawled out, sounding a bit bored.

"How could you possibly know that?" A skinny, light brown haired man said.

"Easy Agent M. He lifted his arms to get into the helicopter, and you can see it."

"I'm a police officer, of course I can handle a gun."

"Can you handle one of ours?" Sherlock rolled his eyes.

"I have my own, thank you."

"We'll get you more ammo, just in case." Sherlock did like that. "Agent Greene, you lead the CIA team." A man with tan skin, muscles making his polo almost too tight (somehow, Sherlock knew that his shirt wasn't that tight on purpose) and short blonde hair was nodding.

"Yes sir." He drawled out. "Just so y'all know, I'll have backup stationed everywhere, in case we need more people." _Southern American, then._

"Good thinking, Agent Greene." Agent R said. "You want to get that started too, Agent S?" Sherlock's eyes met a man with black hair, a pale face, and gray, distant eyes.

"Sure thing. I'll get on it." He said. "I think I have a few ideas already." Agent R smirked.

"Always two steps ahead, aren't you?" He asked.

"It's always been my method, you of all people should know this by now." He shot back, looking at the other agent. They smirked at one another. It reminded him of John and Sherlock together.

"All right boys." They grinned at Head Agent J (too many J's around here). "Sherlock needs to be taken to the lab."

"I'll take him, Dad, I've got to go down there for my report on my last mission anyway." Agent R stood. _So they're father and son. Makes complete sense._

Sherlock took his things, and followed the agent to the labs. "Where exactly are we going?"

"Lower levels. Labs are down deeper." Sherlock nodded, and followed the young man.

"How old are you exactly?" Sherlock asked. Agent R smirked slightly.

"Twenty." Sherlock gave him a look of surprise. "Don't look it much, do I?" He shook his head. "Yeah, a lot of people say that."

"And I presume your wife is the same age." Sherlock said. Angent R nodded.

"What about your girlfriend?" Agent R asked. "What does she do?"

"She's a pathologist in the Morgue over at Barts. What about your wife?"

"What do you think?" A girl approached.

"Oh, hey Remus!" Her dirty blonde hair lay in loose waves down her back, and she wore a pantsuit.

"Amie, this is Detective Inspector Holmes."

"Di Holmes, nice to meet you."

"Sherlock, please." They shoot hands.

"I'll be home tonight around six." Agent R said. "Possibly. Depending on how late I have to work for a new mission."

"Another one all ready? Remus, you've been gone six times in the past four months. Take a break." Remus...the man's name was Remus. What kind of name was that? Then again, what kind of names were Sherlock and Mycroft?

"Except this one they're desperate. Two missions I volunteered to do." They kissed. "I'll be home, don't worry. In pletny of time to see the kids."

"You better, James was mad at you because you didn't come home like promised."

"Not my fault that MI6 can be a bitch."

"Try telling your son that." They walked away.

"She writes a lot...translator."

"Good, Sherlock." Remus sounded impressed.

"How many children do you have?"

"Two, actually." Wrong.

"A third on the way." Sherlock said. Remus blushed.

"Yes, actually. We just found out, so I'd appreciate it if you'd keep that little fact a secret."

"Oh, it's not my business. Been there, done that. Twice." Sherlock said. Remus laughed.

"Two kids?"

"A nineteen year old and an eighteen year old. Oh, and my adopted son, who's seven." Remus grinned.

"Bit of a gap there, mate. You wait on purpose?"

"You watch the news."

"How do you know?"

"You work for your government, of course you watch the news." Sherlock said. They went in through a set of doors, and Sherlock found the most extravagant laboratory he'd ever seen. Sherlock was enthralled.

"I take it you're a man of science?"

"And you obviously aren't."

"So?" Remus said. "I'm a man of law enforcement. You are too. I meant in your spare time."

"Spare time? I'm a consulting detective, I don't have spare time." Sherlock said. He looked around. _Everything_ _is state of the art, brand new, up to date. I like this already. _Sherlock mused silently. Mycroft strolled in.

"Mycroft." Remus said.

"Agent R, I trust you and my brother are cooperating well."

"Of course." Mycroft was watching Sherlock. _He likes this all too well._ Mycroft thought.

"Where are the samples?" Sherlock asked. If he wanted to be home in decent time, he wanted to make sure that he got everything done right away.

"Right here, sir." An older gentleman sat in a stool, and pointed across the lab table. Sherlock nodded, and pulled off his scarf, his gloves, and his coat, and hung them up. Then, he got to work.

"Legally speaking, you aren't supposed to be here." Remus said. "So, here's a lab coat with your name on it, and our last man died in a chemical accident, so here's the station you'll be sitting at." Remus said. Sherlock nodded, and sat down. "There are notebooks and pens for anything you might need to write down." Sherlock nodded, and pulled the tray of samples towards him. He shoved up his reading glasses (he left them on all the time now, as his eyesight _had _been affected by the ash and smoke. Contacts, his eye doctor had told him, would further progress the damage. His new glasses would be here tomorrow.) Sherlock took the blood, and started in on his tests. The doors opened again, and a thin, bespectacled, nervous man came in. He wore a pair of khakis and a polo shirt.

"Remus."

"Jedidiah, hello."

"You asked to speak to me."

"Yes, have you gotten into those security camera's yet?"

"Not yet, sir. I have broken into their computer networking systems. It's the most complex thing I've ever seen." Sherlock ignored them. He ran the tests, and found these machines gave more results than the one's at Barts.

"Everything's coming out the same." Sherlock muttered. Clean, save the poison. Sherlock put the hair through the machines, and put blood on some slides, before peering through it.

"One had a cold, Two were suffering from a low oxygen level, probably severe asthmatics, and another had..." Sherlock peered closer. "Cancer." Sherlock looked closer. "One of the cancer's you get from Agent Orange."

"Agent Orange?" Remus said. "But that was Vietnam. They wouldn't have contracted that cancer now, all the victims weren't old enough."

"No, but the blood is a Vietnamese male." Sherlock said, looking at the group. "I think we have an ID on our first murderer." Remus looked at the computer holding the test reuslts. "The hair, which is from a Bulgarian militia man, and a third is...French. Some of them got careless." Sherlock said. "I'm assuming our killers are these people here." Sherlock pointed to the three results that were _not_ identified by name.

"Can we move in soon?" Remus asked. "We've got what we need."

"I think so, but we don't want them to know we're out on a mission." Sherlock said, standing up with his cell phone, and pulling off the lab coat, before picking up his own coat and scarf. "Mycroft, tell the media that Molly and I went on vacation, kick them off our scent." Mycroft left immediately. Sherlock swept from the room.

"Sherlock." Agent S was standing outside. "Come with me." Sherlock followed the second man.

"Seth, you seen Remus?" Agent M asked.

"Can's say that I have, Mortimer." Seth, Agent S. Mortimer, Agent M. Made sense. Why all the Agent J's though?

"James-" Head Agent J began, as they headed through the hall.

"No, Jon. It's not happening, sorry." He said. _Best friends, regret to turn him down. _Sherlock thought. Seth lead him into a room, and he was handed a handgun, a pair of protective goggles that fit over his glasses, and a pair of noise canceling head phones. Sherlock looked at him.

"Target practice, sir." Seth said. "This gun is filled with blanks. We'll give you real ammo in your own gun for more practice." Sherlock nodded. "Show us what you've got." Sherlock pulled on the protective gear, and went into the vast room filled with targets. Sherlock aimed, and hit spot on every time. Even though the targets took on human shapes.

"You're good at that."

"I took down a criminal mastermind's network alone, didn't I?" Sherlock retorted. Seth smirked.

"I followed that mission. Three of the men that were already dead were actually my doing. National security, nothing personal." Sherlock smirked back, and was handed a full magazine. He removed the one from his clip, and replaced it with the one he was given. He shot, and he shot well, better than with the blanks. They pulled out a mannequin, and he shot all the lethal spots, plus. After they had left, Seth looked at him, quite impressed.

"You're a relatively good shot, there, Detective Inspector."

"My wall certainly can agree there." Sherlock said. Seth wasn't sure whether to laugh, or to be concerned that Sherlock was using his wall as target practice. "I'll meet you at my parent's home. We'll leave Friday." Sherlock swept from the building, and into the cool night air. He hailed a taxi, and went home. Fortunately, Roger had invited Jonah over for dinner. Sherlock came inside, and found that Roger was just dropping off Jonah.

"Son, Roger."

"Sherlock. That Johnson case?" Sherlock only nodded, heading up the stairs, before hanging up his coat on the back of the door, and heading to the kitchen to make tea.

"You okay, Daddy?"

"Son, I need you to give me a moment with Roger." Jonah nodded, and took his stuff to the bedroom upstairs. Once Sherlock could hear Jonah moving around in his room, he turned to his cousin to speak. "Roger, if I had to leave the country, because that's where my case took me, would you be completely adverse to the idea that I may need you to bring Molly and Jonah with you? It's for their saftey."

"Oh, of course. Where to?" Sherlock wasn't allowed to say.

"That's confidential. Although, if you are questioned by anoyone from the media, Molly, Jonah, and I went on a long weekend to see family in France." Roger nodded.

"Of course." Sherlock turned to his cousin.

"Thank you, Roger." Roger took his leave then. Jonah came downstairs, clad in his pajama's, and looking sleepy.

"Daddy, will you tuck me in?" Sherlock pulled the kettle off the stove, and turned off the heat, before heading up to see Jonah to bed.

"Story?"

"Not tonight. I'm sleepy." Sherlock dropped a kiss on Jonah's head, and turned out the lights. He went into the living room, and found Mycroft sitting in John's chair, leg's crossed, looking deep in thought.

"When did Archie move out?" Sherlock asked.

"Eight months ago." Mycroft said shortly. "He was angry with me. Again." Sherlock calculated.

"That was just after your heart attack." Mycroft nodded. Had it really only been eight months? This case was eating at time. Sherlock handed Mycroft a cup of tea, and made himself one, before easing himself into his own chair. "What brings you here, brother. You don't do social calls." Mycroft smiled.

"I needed to get away, if that's alright with you."

"Get away? From Lucinda?"

"Her and Archibald both." Mycroft took a sip of his tea. "Lucinda was screaming at us, Archie was telling me how horrible of a father I am, and I couldn't handle it."

"So why here?" Sherlock asked. "Greg surely has better advice than me. I have a seven year old who behaves himself like a boy graduated from military school, and two adults I didn't raise. What do you want me to say?" Sherlock looked at his older brother.

"Something distracting. Or tell me what you think Archibald's problem is."

"First off, there's your problem, Mycroft." Sherlock said. "You gave him a stupid name, and refuse to listen to his requests that you use his nickname." Mycroft just looked at Sherlock.

"I named him after you, brother."

"I'm well aware where my Godson and nephew got his nickname, brother, but that doesn't make it any less of an awful name. You're problem is the same as what Roger went through. You don't listen to Archie. You don't even know who the boy is, do you?"

"He's my son, of course I do. Don't be-"

"Stupid? Mycroft, I talk to your son on friendlier terms than you, and we all know my inability to make friends." Sherlock retorted. "Mycroft, your son is hurting, because his father demands that he gives up his dreams and his hopes, and wants him to be what his father decides. Remember, that was Father's problem with Grandfather Holmes." Sherlock retorted. "You don't listen."

"Sherlock, what am I supposed to do, the boy told me he thinks I hate him!" Mycroft replied back angrily. "He told me I'm the worst excuse for a father ever, and that I don't even love him."

"Do you Mycroft? When he was born, you wanted nothing to do with him. You were forced to hold the boy for photographic opportunities, and after that, Lucinda was the only one who took care of him. You were too involved in your work to be bothered by a child. He's your son, and you act like he doesn't matter." Sherlock said. "Remember, our dearest cousin who felt like that? And what happens, his parents are murdered in a fatal, deliberate car crash." Sherlock was angry. "He regrets that he never told his parents what he felt. Do you want that to happen to you and Archie?" Sherlock retorted. Mycroft just sat there. Suddenly, the stairs creaked, and they heard a sob.

"What in the world?" Mycroft muttered. A white-faced, sobbing, scared Jonah came into view. Sherlock's angry pose dropped instantly, and he crouched down, holding out his arms. Jonah ran right at him.

"Sh...there, there, son. What happened?"

"I had a bad dream." He whispered, shaking, and crying. "Daddy, it scared be." Sherlock scooped the boy up, and sat on the couch.

"Don't worry son. It wasn't real." Sherlock said, rubbing circles into Jonah's back, soothing the boy. "All right?" Jonah nodded, and clung harder to Sherlock.

"I don't want to go back to bed alone." He whispered, fear filling his face. Sherlock knew it would be cruel to make him face that alone...again.

"Go into my room, son."

"Not alone, Daddy. Please. Anything but alone." He whispered, clinging harder. "I don't want to be alone." Sherlock didn't press the matter. He simply switched off the nearest lamp to dim the lighting in the room, and rubbed Jonah's back.

"What makes you so good with children?"

"Archie isn't a child, Mycroft." Sherlock said. "He's an adult. Legally speaking." Mycroft gave Sherlock a withering look. "Doing what I do is...you see a lot of dangerous stuff out there, and it scares you." Sherlock thought for a moment. "Coming home, seeing Jonah's innocence, his caring, his pure childish look on the world. It makes a nice escape from what I see every day. I can come home, and someone will love me no matter what. Someone will smile, and giggle, and make sure I know everything is okay, even after he's been through hell and back. I know that I can come home, and Jonah won't be afraid to say he loves me. Jonah will always make sure I know that. And the only way to repay that is to do everything I can to be the best damn father I have ever been." Sherlock looked at his brother.

"How do you do that?" Sherlock looked at Mycroft, who looked lost, uncertain, sad. Maybe even a tad jealous. Sherlock looked his brother in the eye.

"You love him for who he is, not what his potential could be."


	30. The Simplicity

"A mission. Sherlock, are you serious?" Molly stood in the foyer at Sherlock's parents house Friday afternoon. Sherlock could only nod. "You're just going to up and leave, just like that."

"Molly, it's only been just decided." Sherlock said. "It's not like I had any control over it."

"And here I was hoping you were being a sweet boyfriend and pulling me from work for a romantic weekend away." Sherlock felt like a crap boyfriend at that moment.

"Ttrust me, my love, the second I come back, we can go on a weekend away to France, or Switzerland, or Spain, or wherever you want to go. Just let me do this." Sherlock swept from the foyer. He wanted to give Molly a proper goodbye when they were alone, but Mycroft, Remus, and Seth were coming in.

"Good luck, Sherlock."

"Be careful."

"Stay safe." Sherlock was greeted by family. He nodded, and they all nodded back. Lily ran, and flung herself in his arms. Sherlock squeezed her tight.

"Be careful Daddy." She whispered. Callum joined them in a group hug.

"I promise you guys." Archie hugged his uncle, tears in his eyes.

"Hey, Uncle Sherlock. Just, do me a favor, okay?" Sherlock nodded. "Don't wait three years to come back this time." Sherlock smiled, and nodded. "And...come back to me in one piece. I kind of need you around here." Sherlock nodded, and embraced the teary-eyed boy again. Sherlock looked over, and let go of Archie, and opened his arms wide when Jonah ran straight at him. Sherlock and Jonah were locked in a hug.

"I'll miss you Daddy." Sherlock pulled Jonah away.

"Listen son. I need you to do me a huge favor. Keep Molly company when she looks sad, okay?" Jonah nodded, fighting back tears. Sherlock hugged Jonah tight again. "My brave, brave son." Sherlock whispered. They held on.

"I love you, Dad. So much." Sherlock smiled.

"And I love you, my son." Archie walked out then, looking hurt. Mycroft went after him, calling his name. After a moment, he came back.

"He's gone." Callum and Lily went after him. Mycroft stopped Callum.

"Please, tell him to check his text messages and email." Callum nodded, and went after his friend, and cousin. Sherlock went to Molly, who had followed them into the family room, and pulled her back into the foyer for privacy. He pressed a searing kiss to her mouth, before looking at her.

"Listen to me, love." She nodded. "I love you. So much. I don't ever say it enough, but I do." Sherlock wiped away the tears that had started to fall. "I'll call you when we're on our way home, all right?" Molly nodded, and broke down. "No, Molly. Sweetheart, come here." He held her in his arms, and soothed her gently.

"I love you." She whispered into his chest.

"I'll be back soon, my love." Sherlock said. "I promise." Molly held onto him, and Jonah ran at them, fighting back tears. Sherlock pulled Jonah off to the side, and looked at him. "You don't have to be brave, Jonah."

"Someone has to be brave for Molly." Sherlock fought back his own tears, and held onto Jonah, scooping him up, and holding onto Molly. Callum, Archie, and Lily ran to them, and joined their hug. Sherlock knew that Remus and Seth were watching, but he didn't really care.

"Be safe, Dad." Callum said through his losing battle with his tears. Archie smiled through his. Jonah was the only one not crying. He looked at everyone, at Sherlock, and back.

"Yeah, we're real happy, aren't we?" He asked sarcastically. They laughed. Sherlock kissed his daughter and girlfriend goodbye, before he finally picked up his bag. John was kissing his crying wife goodbye, and Mycroft was saying something to a heartbroken, unresponsive Archie, and a worried Lucinda.

When Sherlock approached Remus, he looked at Sherlock.

"They'll be okay, you know." He said. Sherlock nodded. He did know. After another moment of his family clinging to one another, Sherlock swept from the house, without another backwards glance.

Finally, Jonah silently cried.

"Be careful, Daddy." He whispered. "Be safe."

They sat in Mycroft's private jet, silently flying to their destination. Sherlock was thinking, Remus was cleaning his gun, and John was trying to read to get his mind off of the mission ahead. Mycroft was on his laptop, looking through research. Seth was reading. Greg...

Greg was nervous. He had never been on a mission like this. He knew Sherlock left the country for his freelance work all the time, but like this? How could he be so calm? Because he's Sherlock bloody Holmes, that's why. Nobody knows why he is the way he is.

As soon as they landed, they checked into their hotel. Greg and Mycroft were in one room, while Seth and Remus were in another. Sherlock and John were in the third. They all slept. Well, except Sherlock. He thought some more. He also sent Molly texts, and finished cases that were too simple.

The following night, after extensive planning, and a lot of stress, they finally were able to move out. They found the abandoned padlock complex, and waited. They saw several men go inside, dressed in suits, and greeting one another formally. They looked around, then went inside.

"Oh, yeah, that's not suspicious at all." Sherlock heard John whisper sarcastically. He smirked, and caught Seth and Remus grinning.

"They tend to do that. Criminals we're after." Seth said. "All right, we've got our comms units on?" They nodded. "Let's move out. If we get lost, speak in the mic on your shirt. Call us Agent R and Lord Seth. We'll call you two..."

"The Doctor." Remus pointed to John. "And..." John thought for a minute. "Sir Kent. Because your parents live on Kent Lane." Not a bad idea.

"Why Lord Seth?"

"Ever seen Star Wars?" Seth asked. "People knew my obsession, and instead of being Sith Lord or Seth Lord, I became Lord Seth."

"I don't get it." Sherlock said.

"You never were a proper teenage boy, were you?" Sherlock looked at John.

"You're only just realizing that?" John smirked. They all pulled their guns, and moved in towards the complex. Mycroft was in a nearby tech van with Jedidiah, the hacker/secretary (Sherlock's deductions had eventually told him that) and another agent everyone seemed to be overly respectful to (most likely head of MI5, then).

They made their way into the building, the hacking team wiping away the fact that they were ever there. In their ears, Mycroft told them which ways to go, and when to hide. Often, they had to backtrack because of guards and a lack of hiding spots. Sherlock was glad when they had finally made it.

Remus paused them. They listened at the door.

"...what if we destroy them?"

"No, we need the man alive. He won't be answering many questions dead."

"Kill his family?"

"Silenced by grief and angered revenge."

"Torture?"

"Still the chance of the wrong information." They were silent. Remus pushed open the door.

"How about you don't kill anyone, and you stand up right now." Sherlock, Seth, and John entered the door, and held their guns up. They rounded the men up, and Mycroft, followed closely by Lestrade, moved in with men to arrest the four murderers.

Wait...four? There were six.

"Sherlock?"

"I know."

"Who's missing?" Seth asked.

"I don't think any of these guys are Vietnamese." Remus said. "Come to think of it, where's the French guy?" John looked worried.

"Did that seem entirely too easy to you?" They all nodded worriedly.

"I'm going to call Molly." He said, dialing her number, and pressing send. After it went to voice mail, Sherlock tried to call again. Three times. And she didn't answer.

"She won't pick up. It's not possible, she told me she'd answer if I..." Sherlock whipped around to find everyone else looking at him in horror.

"Molly...Jonah." Sherlock gasped out. He took off.

**Ooh, suspenseful cliffhanger!**

**Sorry, it's gotta stop there. I've got a nasty cough, like I'm coming down with bronchitis or something. I've got asthma really bad, so I wouldn't be surprised. Although my allergies are being annoying, which is weird, because I was cleaning my room (and my house is super dusty) and they were fine. But all of the sudden...**

**Also, if I suddenly don't update for a while, then come back, it's because I've been neglecting my novel project. I've been trying to get that typed up and published for a long time, and I really need to start it again. Sorry about that. If you want to read the first chapter, let me know, and I'll get it up on my fictionpress account, and I'll link it on my profile.**

**Ugh, also, I work a lot more than I was before, so I'll be delayed there. **

**Also, if there are any weird grammar error's, I do apologize. I'm using Open Office (cause it's free) and it tells me the weirdest things are wrong. Like I wrote out "Lily's" and it said I spelled it wrong. Also, I'm using my laptop, and I accidentally hit the track pad with my thumb, and I'll start typing in a completely different spot in the middle of a sentence. It's annoying to no end. **

**Well, anyway, there's that. I hope you all enjoy, you have the past twenty something chapters. **


	31. The Sacrifice

**Hey, guys, I've just got one request. I was hoping you would help me out with something. I'm not a huge fan of anonymous reviews, so if you aren't logged in for any reason, please put your user name where it normally would say guest. Only so that I can reply back to you. I got a message that came off as rude to me, from a girl who told me to "read a thesaurus" or something similar, because I wrote confident rather than confidant on my summary. Just...please? If you don't have an account, I get that, but I like replying to you guys, working out misunderstandings and such.**

**Also, thank you for all your support. I'll have my novel chapter up and posted soon, I promise. It's under major reconstruction right at the moment. Also, thank you for all your get well wishes. I got this sick right around the same time last year. Only, this year is better, because I haven't been to the doctors twice in one week, and I have a laptop so I can work on fanfictions, and talk to all of you. **

**Also, if you have any other questions, please feel free to PM me or tweet me or anything. My info is on my profile. I'm always up for a chat. **

**Thanks again, guys!**

Molly was curled up in an armchair, sipping tea, and looking at a picture on the mantle. It was a young Sherlock wearing a goofy grin, and a pirate's costume. Mycroft, looking to be around an almost-teenager, was dressed as Frankenstein, described vividly from what Molly could remember in the novel.

"They really do love each other." Mr. Holmes said, sitting across from Molly. "They don't know how to show one another brotherly affection, and therefore, they tease one another. They've always been near best friends. Sherlock nor Mycroft would never admit it, but they are."

"What do you think makes it so hard for them to express themselves?" She asked. Mr. Holmes leaned back in his chair, crossed his legs, and took a sip of his whiskey from his tumbler. He was thoughtful.

"Honestly, Molly, I think it's their oddness. Mycroft and Sherlock were both Autistic, although Sherlock needed early intervention his was so bad." Molly had known that much. When she had helped Sherlock fake his suicide, it had been in his records that he was given medication from an early intervention centre. "Mycroft had more what is known as Aspberger's. He wasn't nearly as bad as Sherlock, and outgrew it quickly. Unlike our dear Sherlock, he became quite popular, had many friends, had girlfriends. He was social. Sherlock, on the other hand, was very different. Mrs. Holmes and I are guilty of removing Sherlock from early intervention a bit too early. We thought he was ready, but evidently not. It wasn't until Roger started attending school with him that he figured out what interaction with other's looked like. Kirsty Jonas was the most popular girl in the entire school. He made friends, not that he'd call them that. He threw parties, although, that was rather odd. I'm not entirely sure Roger didn't have a hand in it, like Sherlock always claims." Molly giggled, and glanced at Sherlock's beloved cousin, who was laughing at something Archie had said. Lucy was sitting next to Archie.

"He does love Roger."

"He does. That's why it broke his heart when Roger moved so far away." Mr. Holmes said. "We were so grateful when he found John, and you. And Greg Lestrade, of course."

"What made Sherlock snap?"

"Honestly, we don't know." Mr. Holmes said. "We tried to get him to talk. I used to be a counselor for kids at camp, but I couldn't get him to come and tell me what had cause his mental breakdown. Next thing I knew, Mycroft threw him in rehab."

"When did you notice he was using?" Molly had been curious, but she was afraid that Sherlock would never admit this information And she knew Mr. Holmes wouldn't give away information too compromising.

"Mycroft had asked Sherlock to be Archie's godfather. He showed up to the baptismal ceremony and looked thinner than he is now, was barely there, and his pupils were huge, not to mention the fact that he had put completely brand new, fresh from the store clothes on all three of them, as if to hide a scent." Molly knew where they got their deduction powers from. Their father had saw right through it. "They, being Sherlock, Callum, and Lily." Molly nodded. "Well, afterwords, we were at a brunch, and Sherlock stretched out, was coming back to normal...well, almost normal, and I spotted puncture marks and self inflicted cuts on the bare part of his arm. Not only was he using cocaine, he was self-harming. Fortunately, Mycroft also noticed, and threw Sherlock into a rehab centre, and detoxed him. It was horrible, the detox. I guess Lestrade was there once, Sherlock was a mess."

"Did you see him?" Mr. Holmes shook his head, regret and pain filling his eyes.

"No. He refused to let us see him, especially Mrs. Holmes, and I wasn't so sure I wanted to see my normally strong, conquer the world as Captain Holmes so..." He didn't say anything. But Molly got it.

"Like when my dad died. I didn't want to see a strong man in pain and suffering." Molly said solemnly. Sherlock's father nodded.

Unexpectedly, Alfonse was brought into the room by an Asian man, and another fellow, German, Molly guessed.

"Vietnamese." Mr. Holmes muttered. Alfonse was terrified, and being held at gunpoint. She looked, and found several more men came in, and grabbed her. She screamed, until they forced a gag around her mouth.

"Molly!" Jonah cried out. He was grabbed, and tied up himself. Mr. and Mrs. Holmes went running for one another, but were forcibly separated by the man that had just tied up Molly, and the one that had knocked Callum out cold to stop them fighting. They were all tied, and left to sit there.

Jonah wondered when his Daddy was going to get there. He saw Molly afraid, and teary eyed. His sister, Lily, who had been nice to him, and Lucy, who had helped him with bullies, were both shaking with sobs. He was terrified. He wasn't going to cry though. He couldn't. He was afraid of what would happen. Instead, he swallowed his fear, and looked at the nearest man.

"Why are you here, sir? What did we do wrong?" His voice shook, but he sounded a lot braver than he felt. The man turned to Jonah, gave him a scathing look.

"Your dear old Daddy has figured out who we are. He's been a rather nosy man."

"What do you mean?"

"We're the one's who tried to kill that boy, killed those people." Jonah looked at him. "And we'll kill you too, especially if you don't stop talking." Jonah looked up.

"But why us?" He was confused. The man sighed.

"Idiot boy! We're trying to get to your father! He'll know we're here, if he's as good as everyone says." Jonah glanced at Sally, who was silently crying. Roger was looking at her in horror. He couldn't move.

"Roger Holmes. And Anna Belle Thompson." Someone came strutting towards them. Roger looked up, then his eyes widened in horror.

"Eric?"

Eric? Mr Holmes' gaze shot shot towards Eric.

"Eric?" Mr. Holmes.

"Uncle James?" He grinned evilly. "This is a surprise." Roger gave him a dirty look.

"You dare speak to this family, you backstabbing lowlife?" Roger spat. Sally looked scared. Her daddy never talked to people like that. She shifted closer to Jonah. Eric turned towards them.

"Are these two yours?"

"No, just the girl." Roger said. "Sally, don't let this man touch you." Sally scooted back as the man came closer.

"Hi sweetheart." Roger was shaking in anger.

"Don't touch her!" He shouted. Her back bumped against a sofa. _Shit_ Roger thought. She was trapped.

"Leave her alone!" Jonah shouted. "She didn't do anything to you." He looked at Eric in fear. _Your father would be so proud to see you right now._ Roger thought. _Such a brave boy._ Jonah's fingers, tied together, shook and trembled, but he looked calm, and safe.

"So, she's got a boyfriend."

"Don't be stupid. I can't date my cousin!" Jonah said. "That's illegal." Eric looked shocked. Molly suddenly felt the loosening of her gag, and heard someone whisper "Don't remove it yet, let me get the little kids out of here."

"Cousin. You're Sherlock's kids? Sherlock had kids?"

"Three, doofus." Callum said. Lily was also looking irritated.

"You? Are you all of the same mother?"

"We are." Lily said.

"Oh, Sherlock's been busy." He said, laughing.

"I'm not related to him." Jonah said. "I'm adopted." Eric looked at Jonah.

Something rustled under the couch behind Sally. Suddenly, the dragged Archie out by the ankles. He helped.

"Hi!" He said, grinning. "I was just fixing the underside of the sofa."

"No you weren't." Archie figured it wouldn't work. He stood up, and a masked guy carrying a large gun punched Archie in the face. He collapsed, and groaned.

"Archie!" Lucinda shouted. He was dragged to his feet, and yanked from the room.

"Don't worry about me, Mum." He said. "I'll be all right." He was dragged into the foyer, and within moments, they could here him scream out "no, please, no!" Followed by a piercing scream of pain. Lucinda was sobbing. Archie was screaming, mingled with sobs.

Meanwhile...

Sherlock was pacing erratically on the plane.

"Sherlock, my wife and daughter are there, I get it."

"You don't understand. Somethings wrong." Sherlock said. "Something is very wrong with them." Mycroft knew it too. He could feel it as much as Sherlock.

"What would it be?" Sherlock shrugged.

"I don't know, that's what kills me." Sherlock said. "Jonah could be dead, Callum, Lily." He said. "And it would be because of me." Sherlock said. He dropped his face into his hands, and didn't move.

"Sherlock it'll be okay." Mycroft said, loading his own gun, one he rarely needed to use. Sherlock watched him. "We'll be ready. Agent R, Agent S, are you two staying?"

"Yeah, you guy are going to need us." The Southerner looked at them.

"We could call in the CIA backup. I've got them stationed near MI5." He said.

"Actually, Bobby that would be amazing." Remus said. "Maybe call in an ambulance." Sherlock didn't move.

"Maybe we should call in the Team." Seth said, legs crossed, looking at Remus. He nodded.

"Everyone?"

"Everyone we can get our hands on. I'd even get a hold on Pierre de la Cadillac and Gerald Omron."

"Gerald?"

"He's a professional MMA fighter." Seth said. "He may not be a spy. But he could definitely kick butt with it." Remus nodded, and picked up his mobile, scrolling through his contacts, then pressed the phone to his ear. He walked away, speaking in low, rapid French.

"Aren't they in France?"

"No, they came for a visit. They were planning on stopping by before they left." Seth said. "It's been a while."

"Are they still together?"

"Yeah, pretty sure." Seth said. "I'm not certain though. Sounded like it last time Pierre called. How's Harper?"

"Wonderful." He said, grinning. "She's amazing." He laughed. "You know we're expecting."

"Really?" Bobby nodded.

"Yeah." He said, sitting in Remus' unoccupied chair. "And we're going to ask Head...er...Moon...to be Godfather."

"He'd like that." Seth said. "That's got to be weird, though, your old Headmaster is your brother-in-law." Bobby laughed.

"You don't even know the half of it, man." He said. "Family dinner's are so awkward. People can't figure out why I call him 'sir.'" They laughed.

Sherlock, who had heard their conversation, took a slight glance at Mycroft, and looked towards the window.

Somehow, he wanted that to be him and Molly one day.

"Sherlock?" He looked up at Greg, who had gone to speak to the pilot. "We're landing."

_Where's my Daddy?_ Jonah thought. It had been a very long time, he really had to go to the bathroom, and he was hungry. Archie was tied up in a chair, and covered in blood, forming bruises, and cuts. Sally and Jonah cuddled together for protection. Archie was in deep thought.

"Where is he?" Eric asked again. John, the man from Vietnamese, was glaring at them. Lucinda was sobbing, and Roger looked furious.

"I told you, he didn't tell us." Archie shouted. Another blow across the face. Archie didn't cry out in pain.

"You better fess up." John said.

"Come on. Lestrade, stay here, call for an ambulance. We'll need it. Once the rest of the Yarder's get here, you follow." Sherlock said, pulling out his gun, and pulling his shirt and jacket back on.

"I've already done it. Now we'll wait. Anyone else is history."

"Good man." Mycroft said. They snuck inside, Remus, Bobby, and Seth, along with several unnamed agents, went around to find the snipers.

"When I say..."

"I DON'T KNOW!" Archie screamed.

"Stop it, your hurting him!" Jonah called out. Silence.

"No, don't hurt him!" Sally. Tears filled Sherlock's eyes. _No, not again. I can't..._A piercing scream rang out around the room. "Daddy, help me."

"Sally." They breathed.

"Don't touch her you pervert." Sherlock gripped Mycroft's arm, but it was too late. He cocked his gun, and entered the room.

"Don't touch her you pervert." Archie spat out. He didn't want any harm to come to the sweet, innocent little girl who had done nothing but stood up for family. The Vietnamese man raised a fist.

"Don't you dare touch my son." Archie's head whipped up.

"Dad." He whispered, tears filling his eyes. Before Mycroft pulled the trigger to his gun, a pinpoint was on his chest. "No." He half sobbed. Sherlock went in then.

"Oh, how clever, you put a sniper on him." Sherlock said sarcastically.

"Dad." Callum said. Sherlock looked at him, then Lily. She had a bruise on his face. Someone was going to pay.

"Sherlock." Lucinda asked. He glanced at her, and looked to the back of the room. Mrs. Hudson and Alfonse were tied up, together. He made his way to the back, and stood by them, aware that several guns were on him.

"Daddy." Jonah whispered. Sherlock smiled at Mrs. Hudson, but he had heard Jonah. He couldn't go to his son now. There was no way. John who had come in with Sherlock, stood off to the side, where Mary was. He looked to Lucy, who was looking very brave. He smiled at her, pride in every inch of his face.

"So, you torture children and the elderly for your own sexual pleasure? Oh, how very macho of you." Sherlock said. He turned to face Eric. "Oh, and we have a family reunion. Back to ruin your brother's life some more?"

"No, just yours." Eric said. Sherlock smirked.

"Oh, and in your ignorance to see the truth, you abused my nephew. How very...cowardly." Sherlock said. Eric looked furious.

"You take that back." Sherlock smirked in amusement. While he had Eric angry, he slipped Alfonse a pocket knife, and made them sit down.

"Now you know me. When do I ever take my words back?" Sherlock asked. He glanced at Roger, who nodded. "Never. Nobody here knew the truth." Sherlock said.

"Told you I didn't know." Archie muttered.

"Archie, don't smart mouth the enemy, it's really not a good idea when your father had a sniper aimed at him." Sherlock said. Eric sat. Suddenly, a body fell from the balcony, and the light on Mycroft's chest was gone.

"Vatican Cameos!" Sherlock shouted, causing John to hit the floor. Before Sherlock could gather what he was seeing, a masked man was aiming at Archie. Mycroft saw it, and instantly ran. He threw himself in the way. Although he'd been wearing a bullet proof vest the entire time, the short range was enough to punch right through his chest, and he hit the floor.

"Mycroft!" Sherlock shouted. He pulled his gun, and emptied it into the masked guard. Before he could reload, four shots hit his torso, and he hit the floor.

"No!" Molly shouted. She had worked her wrists from her binding, and jumped up, and proptly shoved her foot into Eric's groin. He doubled over in pain. Mr. Holmes looked up.

"Let's hope none of us ever piss you off." He said. Molly untied him.

"Hit the deck!" Someone shouted, and guns shot through the air. Archie had been safely removed, and he was under the coffee table. Jonah and Sally had flung themselves to the floor, and didn't move. Several black-clad men were standing, and the others were dead. All but Eric. Eric had been tied to a chair. Molly had been the one to tie him there. A masked man pulled his ski mask off, and grinned.

"Well, Remus?" His accent was thick. Remus hurled himself over the balcony.

"Nicely done, Pierre." Sherlock stood up.

"What?"

"Sherlock you were.."

"But, Dad..." Molly ran to him.

"I thought you were dead." Sherlock undid two buttons on his shirt, smirking. Underneath was a vest.

"Kevlar works wonders." Someone groaned. Sherlock ran towards his brother.

"Mycroft." He said. Mr. Holmes, who had been untying his wife, and comforting her, ran to them, and knelt down. Archie, who barely had the strength left to crawl back out from under the coffee table, dragged himself out by his arms, and grabbed his father's hand. He blacked out before he could speak. Immediately, Lestrade, who had called for everyone to hit the deck, had the paramedics in there instatly. Sherlock let them take Mycroft, and ran to rescue Jonah. Eric was slapped into a pair of handcuffs, to be taken in for questioning.

"Sherlock."

"Dad." Jonah's voice was strangled. Sherlock pulled out his pocket knife, and cut the ropes on their wrists, and held them both in his arms.

"Shh...Jonah, Sally, it's all right." He said. Sally had sobbed, and detangled herself from Sherlock, before running right to her father, and holding on tight. Sherlock pulled Jonah away to look at him.

"Jonah. Look at me." The boy did. "You were so very brave. But now, you don't have to be brave anymore." Sherlock said. Jonah, who was relieved, scared, and exhausted, flung himself at Sherlock, and sobbed. After a minute, he pulled away, and left. Sherlock was worried, but needed to figure out if Mycroft was all right.

"He's stable." Lestrade said. Megan was clinging to him for dear life. "He'll be all right." Sherlock nodded silently, and turned to Molly. He held her protectively in his arms, until Lily, who was sobbing, and Callum, who was white as a ghost, ran at them, and joined the hug. Jonah came back, and clung to Sherlock's leg. Sherlock scooped him up, and held his family close.

"You okay Freak?" Sherlock looked at Donovan, and nodded.

"Yeah, fine." He said. "Just...splendid." Sherlock spun around to his parents. "Go to Mycroft, I'll settle things here, and be there as soon as I can."

"You sure? Sherlock, he's your brother."

"And I promise, I'll be there soon. Mycroft would kill me if this house was left with dead people laying around while he was rushed to the hospital." Sherlock said. Mr. Holmes couldn't argue that. He ran off. Mrs. Holmes hugged Sherlock.

"Mummy, listen to me." He said quietly, low enough where Donovan behind him hadn't heard. The bodies were being picked up now. "I need you to go with Father."

"Why?"

"Becuase someone has to keep him together, and he can't do it alone. And he's going to see Mycroft. I'll come up there, I just want things settled here, all right?" Mrs. Holmes nodded, and pressed her lips to her son's cheek. "Love you." He whispered.

"Love you, sweetheart." She said, and ran towards the door. "Sherlock?" He turned around. She smiled weakly. "Thanks." He nodded.

"Go, before Father takes off without you." Roger joined him, rubbing his wrists.

"Where are your parents going?" Donovan watched the two of them.

"Off to see Mycroft."

"Why aren't you going?"

"I'm getting everything settled here, then I'm taking off. Mycroft would want a trustworthy person taking care of this mess."

"And I'm his cousin too, Sherlock. Look, I've got everything here, why don't you take off. We'll keep Jonah for the night." Sherlock still had Jonah in his arms.

"No, it's probably-"

"Please, Daddy?" Jonah whispered. "I don't want Sally to be alone. And then you can stay with Uncle Mycroft." Sherlock thought for a moment.

"All right, son." He dropped a kiss on the boy's forehead. "I understand that." He glanced in Molly's direction. Molly was looking scared, and was in a group hug with Lestrade and Megan. He put the boy on his feet, and knelt down. He took the boy's face in his hands. "Listen to me, Jonah." Jonah nodded. "I am so very proud of you. You were brave, and you did so well." Jonah smiled.

"I was scared you weren't going to make it, that they'd kill Archie before you got there." He whispered. "I didn't want him to die." Sherlock held the boy in a hug.

"Don't worry." Sherlock said. "I figured it out just in time."

"What was the giveaway?"

"Part of the group was missing." Sherlock said. "There were five people, and we had only gotten ahold of three, plus a huge group of guards. That, and it was far too easy for men of their status." Sherlock said. Jonah detangled himself from Sherlock, and ran to Sally, and held on tight. Sherlock stood to full height. Eric was being dragged away.

"Brother." Roger didn't look at him. "You'll never get away with this." Roger looked the other man evenly in his eyes.

"You, Eric, are no brother of mine." He said coldly, walking away. "Physically, yes, but not on an emotional scale." He walked off. Sherlock smirked, and nodded, letting the other officer take Eric away.

"How charming." Anderson said drily. "He's giving empty threats." Sherlock smirked, and watched Molly evenly. She was letting go of her hug with John, and was barely hanging in there. She turned, and found Sherlock waiting, allowing her to come to him on her own terms. She ran right at him, and flung herself in his arms. He held onto her tightly, and rubbed her back soothingly. Molly was loosing the ability to stand, so Sherlock pulled her down to the floor for a minute, and he knelt beside her, whispering soothingly in her ear. She clung to him.

"Mycroft." She said. He nodded, helped her up, and together they made their way to the door. Sherlock and Molly clambered into the Range Rover, and went to the hospital. As they drove, Sherlock's mobile went off. He answered it.

"It's not looking good, Sherlock." Lucinda. "Archie's in critical condition, and Mycroft's going to need very dangerous emergency surgery to remove the bullet." Sherlock didn't like that one bit.

"All right. Keep us updated Lucinda." Sherlock hung up, and sped up. Molly held his hand. Behind him, Lestrade had turned on his blue lights, and sirens. Police Escort. He noticed Lestrade had Lily and Callum in the back, and Megan sitting up front. Jonah had most likely elected to comfort Sally, who had been absolutely terrified. Sherlock was worried about far too much, and was developing a headache.

They finally arrived at the hospital, and Sherlock sat in a chair next to his worried father. Lestrade followed in. Lily joined Molly and Sherlock, and Callum had mysteriously left. Upon questioning his whereabouts, Lily had rolled her eyes.

"The bathroom. Seriously, he pulls me off to the side and says, 'I'll be back.' He didn't tell me, but I had an idea. He's so weird about that sort of thing." Mr. Holmes glanced at Sherlock.

"Gee, wonder where he gets that from."

"Absolutely no idea." Sherlock said. The doctor came into the waiting room then.

"Mrs. Holmes? Archie will be just fine." Lucinda stood up.

"Can I go see him?" She asked.

"Of course." The doctor led Lucinda to the right room. Sherlock gripped Molly's hand.

It was going to be a long wait before Mycroft would be settled. A long wait.


	32. The Recovery

Sherlock refused to move.

He hadn't slept, been home, really. Accept to shower, and spend time with Jonah before he went off to school. He stayed right at the hospital, until he went to pick Jonah up. Mrs. Hudson watched him until late, Sherlock came home, said his good nights, and went back. He didn't eat, no matter how much Molly begged and pleaded. Sherlock was a mess.

Finally, after two long weeks, Archie emerged, happy, healthy, free of injury. Much like Sherlock, he stayed at the hospital, although he talked to people, he cheered up his mother, and he ate. To sleep, he'd go to Sherlock's, and hang out with Archie. Jonah, having had enough of his father's worry, kicked Sherlock out, and demanded that someone else come around until Sherlock got his brother back.

After another three days, Jonah, who'd been brought by Lestrade, came in, and the doctor came out. Sherlock looked up. And Mycroft followed suit. Without thought, or anyone suspecting it, Sherlock launched himself from his chair, and ran with all his might, right at his brother. He ran, stopped, and flung his arms around Mycroft, who returned the hug just as tightly. His brother had been in a coma, and Lucinda, being his next-of-kin, was the only one admitted, due to his high-security profile. Even though Mycroft would have allowed it, his parents nor Sherlock were allowed to visit. They clung tight to one another.

"Thank you, Sherlock." Mycroft said.

"Good to have you back, Mycroft." Sherlock said, uncharacteristically. Mycroft grinned, and looked up. Sherlock turned around, and found Archie, standing, face red, tears in his eyes, and battling with himself on his next move. Finally, he ran, with all his might, right into his father's arms. He clung tight, and broke down sobbing.

"Dad." He choked out. "Dad, I'm sorry."

"Don't be, my son." Mycroft said. He hugged Archie. "You haven't done anything wrong."

"But, the things I said to you, about you..."

"They don't matter anymore, Archie." He said. "You're safe, your alive, and that's all I can think about now." Archie grinned, and pulled away.

"I want to move back in with you and Mum. Mike's a bit overwhelming to live with, and Ricky doesn't understand the meaning of personal space."

"We would love to have you back, Archie." Mycroft said, hugging his son to him. Lucinda pulled Sherlock off to the side, and hugged him. For a woman of 5'2" and skinny everywhere, she sure did know how to give a death grip. Sherlock was gasping for breath. Molly giggled.

"Thank you." She said. "For my boys." He nodded.

"Lucinda, they're my family too." Sherlock looked at his brother. "I'd do anything to protect them." Jonah, still in his school uniform, ran, his gray sweater swooping behind him as he ran, and his tie around his neck from the run.

"Uncle Mycroft, you're all better!" He shouted, hugging his only uncle.

"Of course I am, Jonah." Mycroft scooped the boy up. "Who else would keep your father out of trouble?" Jonah giggled, and rapped his arms around Mycroft's neck. Archie was grinning.

"Hey, Mycroft, good to see you're all right." Lestrade said.

"Thank you, Greg." Was the reply. Mr. and Mrs. Holmes approached, and hugged Mycroft in turn, then Archie again, because they could. They all walked out together, Mycroft's arm around Archie's shoulder.

"Hey Dad."

"Yes, son?"

"Maybe while you're on recovery, we could do stuff together."

"We could, couldn't we." Mycroft speculated. "What did you have in mind?" Archie was quiet for a moment.

"Well, I'd like it if you'd come to one of my gigs. Just for the support." He looked up hopefully.

"How about, instead of dragging me everywhere you go, you have a little performance of your own at home." Archie grinned.

"Yeah, okay."

"Just because of all the problems I've been having lately. With a gunshot wound, and a heart attack..." Archie nodded.

"Yeah, no, that's fine." Archie said. "For you, Dad...I'll do anything." Sherlock had never seen Mycroft grin so hard.


	33. The Yes

**I was reading my reviews, and an unsigned poster (there's a name, but I haven't had the chance to see if it's a real account.) who begged "don't kiss Molly, they don't fit!" I don't support Johnlock, I don't believe that fits. Besides the fact that, in case you haven't read the character pairing, it's a Sherlock/Molly story. **

**Okay, that aside, I'm sorry for these being so weirdly spaced out. I've been sick (and am just about back to my old self!) and work, and life. Oh, and, while sick, my mother made me clean my bedroom on Sunday, because apparently she'll take over the project herself otherwise. I'm eighteen, and this is what my life is like. Irritating, right?**

**Well, anywho, I have to get on with my chapter, and such. Also, I did mention that this one will end, but there will be a sequel. I'm not sure what I'll write first, the prequel or the sequel. Decisions decisions...**

Sherlock and Roger were sitting in the former's office, the latter looking completely stunned. "Are you serious?"

"Completely." Sherlock said. "Jonah gave me the idea after I ranted to him Monday."

"You ranted to Jonah about what happened?"

"Jonah is a better listener than my skull, and he was there. I can't prevent the facts, Roger."

"Right, okay. And he gave you this idea?" Sherlock nodded. "And you agree with a seven year old?" Sherlock nodded.

"He had a fair point though. Last month put a lot of things into perspective." So far, after the entire situation, Sherlock and co. had thrown apprehended several more criminals from the network, and had them thrown in jail. Sherlock was looking at a simple file. After that, he didn't mind so much, having a simple case. He looked up, and Anderson, Molly right next to him, was looking at a file. Molly often came to deliver gunshot death reports after she did the autopsy. They knew she was friendly with Lestrade, and let her do it. Sherlock watched her pass. Within moments, she backtracked, put her upper torso in through the doorway, waved, grinned, and left. Sherlock smirked. Roger rolled his eyes, and left. After a moment, realization hit the consulting Detective Inspector, and he threw himself from his swivel chair, and through the door.

"Molly!" He called. She was just turning from Lestrade, and on her way to leave. "Molly, wait." She turned to him. "I have something to tell you."

"What is it?" She asked curiously.

"I love you." She smiled, her face going bright red. She never really got used to Sherlock's bluntness.

"Well, that was sweet. You ran to catch up with me just to say I love you?" She pecked his cheek, and turned to leave again. Sherlock grabbed her forearm and stopped her.

"No, Molly, you don't get it." He said, gripping each of her forearms. "I love you." Molly looked confused. "After everything that happened, I decided that I can't lose you." Sherlock said. "I don't ever want to lose you. I can't even begin to tell you how much you mean to me. I know I don't say it enough, but I hope this certainly counts for something." Sherlock, not caring that the entire CID division was watching, not caring that the room was waiting for Sherlock's next move, nor that it was silent, and everyone could hear, Sherlock got down on one knee, and pulled a small velvet box from his jacket pocket. "Molly Hooper." He said, taking her hand, and popping open the ring box. She saw a simple, yet beautiful ring nested in the box, safe and snug. Tears poured down Molly's face. "Would you do me the honor of becoming my wife?" She was sobbing.

"Yes." She forced out. Sherlock slid the ring delicately on her small, slender hands, and stood up. Before he could do anything more, Molly grabbed him by the lapels, and yanked him down into a kiss. Sherlock was surprised, but he didn't mind one bit. They stood there snogging, breaking apart and being engulfed by the wolf-whistles, cat calls, and cheers around them. Molly laughed when Greg wrapped an arm around the other. Sherlock grinned his best grin, and even wrapped an arm around Lestrade himself, although it was the most comfortable for him to be in that position.

"Thank you, Greg." Sherlock said. Roger gasped in fake surprise.

"Wow, he _does_ know your name!" Sherlock glared half-heartedly at Roger, and Lestrade laughed.

After they had kicked the happy couple out into the streets for celelbration, Molly asked Sherlock what he wanted to do.

"With you?" He asked, grinning. "Anything."

**I know, the ending is abit lame, but I'm tired, and I couldn't come up with a better one. I promise, I'll get more done, I've just been busy with work and such. I'll be posting a sample of writing from my novel, and let me know if you want to read it. I'll PM you back with the link. Also, I will be willing to continue that piece if you want, but you gotta let me know. Thanks guys!**


	34. The Announcement

Sherlock and Molly were in the kitchen, laughing as they cooked dinner. Jonah was in his bedroom, doing his homework, and tired from a long, hard day at school. Apparently, the whole class had been in trouble for bullying the new boy, even though Jonah's mission was to make him feel at home. Jonah knew what that was like, and wanted to comfort him. Instead, when he went to talk to him at lunch, his teacher got angry, and punished the entire class. Jonah felt bad for the boy more so than himself. Sherlock liked that. All his life, up until Roger went to school with Sherlock, he had been constantly bullied. Nobody wanted to stand up for him. Now, it seemed like Jonah's mission in life was to stand up for everyone around him.

Molly set the table, while Sherlock went off to get Jonah. He knocked. Jonah looked up from his math homework. It was particularly difficult today for the over-tired boy. "Yeah, Dad?"

"Dinner's ready, son. You want to come down tonight, Molly and I have news that'll cheer you up." Jonah nodded.

"Give me a minute, I'm almost done with my last maths problem." Sherlock nodded, and went down the stairs, and into the kitchen. He pulled Molly towards him, and held her sides, rubbing up and down her sides.

"We've got a minute." He said, leaning in and pressing his lips to her mouth. Molly wrapped her arms around his neck, and kissed him back. Sherlock didn't know how much time had passed, but somehow he didn't mind that fact.

"Dad, Molly..." Jonah blushed. "Oops." Sherlock broke the kiss and laughed.

"Don't worry, Jonah. You're fine." Jonah clambered into his chair, and Sherlock served the boy some food.

After everyone was settled, Jonah swallowed his food and said, "You said you had news?" Molly and Sherlock grinned, and held hands on the table, a first for them. "Wow, you guys must be really excited."

"Jonah." Sherlock said. "Molly and I are getting married." Jonah looked up, shock and excitement filling his face.

"You asked her?" He shouted. Sherlock nodded. Jonah flung himself from his chair, and ran at Sherlock, clambering into his chair, and squeezing him. They hugged for a moment, before Jonah reached for Molly for another hug. Molly laughed, and hugged him. "Did you tell anyone else?"

"The whole Yard watched me propose." Sherlock said drily. Molly laughed.

"Only because that was your chosen spot of proposal." She said, kissing his cheek. Jonah snuggled into his father's arms.

"Can I tell people at school?"

"Yes." Sherlock said. He had told Anna, and Sally might know. "We'll be telling everyone else this weekend. We're going up to visit my parents this weekend to tell them, Uncle Mycroft, and Molly's mother." Sherlock said. "All in one weekend."

"Okay. Am I missing school on Friday?" Sherlock nodded. It had been a while sense Jonah had missed school, and, after today, Sherlock felt he needed the break. He only missed two hours at the end of the day, it's not like he missed all day generally.

After dinner, Sherlock and Molly tucked Jonah into bed, and sat in the living room, discussing their wedding plans.

"My parents yard. Maybe Mycroft's? That way, if it rains, we can easily move inside, and there isn't any fees for the place." Sherlock replied.

"I like that idea." Molly seemed sad.

"What is it, Molly?"

"Just..." She sighed. "Who's going to walk me down the aisle?" Sherlock didn't think of that.

"IF you go alone...I can marvel at your beauty better without the interference of a tense father." She giggled, but sadly. "Don't worry, Molly. I'll find you someone to walk down the aisle with." And Sherlock had the perfect idea.

The next morning, Sherlock went into work, and strode right up to Lestrade's office.

"Sherlock?"

"I need someone to walk Molly down the aisle at our wedding." Sherlock got straight to the point. "And, instead of putting you in the party, as planned, I was going to have you walk her down the aisle. You are her best friend, and have supported both of us through a lot. If it wasn't for you, we'd never have met."

"I'd be honored, Sherlock." Sherlock grinned.

"Thank you, Greg. I appreciate it." Sherlock said, leaving. Greg looked at the empty air Sherlock had previously occupied.

_Thank you, I appreciate it...Molly Hooper, you've done some good for that man._ Greg thought looking at the spot in surprise._ He _must_ love you._

That Friday, Sherlock and Molly went into the office in Jonah's school. Sherlock had his arm wrapped around her shoulders, protecting her from the March breeze.

"Coming to get Jonah?" Mrs. Crawford asked. She was the secretary at Jonah's school.

"Yes. We're going to see my parents."

"Oh, how fun!" She said, grinning. "You know the drill, just sign him out here, and we'll call him down." Sherlock nodded, and scrawled his signature across the paper. Molly was quiet. "You must be Molly."

"Hi." Molly said quietly. They shook hands.

"Jonah talks a lot about you."

"You seem to know my son well."

"Oh, he's sent down here often." Mrs. Crawford said. "He gets in a lot of trouble, but there never seems to be a reason why."

"Is it that new boy?"

"Yes, he helps out, and Mrs. Mason sends him down. He tells us what happens, and I know he's not a liar." She said. "So he sits here for a little, Mr. Crawford lets him, and tells us about you guys." She said. Mr. Crawford was the principal, and Mrs. Crawford's husband. "Are you two getting married for real, or is he being imaginative." Sherlock and Molly flushed.

"Yes, we're getting married.'"

"Well congrats. I met a boy who told us that, even though it wasn't true." Mr. Crawford came out of his office.

"Ah, Mr. Holmes! Jonah is a wonderful, kind young man. He seems to like standing up for people." Sherlock smiled uncomfortably.

"Yes, and I'm glad." Sherlock said. "Actually, Mrs. Crawford, could we have Jonah's emergency card? I'd like to add two people to his pick up information."

"Who?" Molly asked.

"You and Roger." Molly nodded, and leaned against Sherlock.

"You must be Doctor Hooper." Mr. Crwaford said, smiling. They shook hands. "Jonah seems to be very fond of you both."

"He's a good kid." Molly said. "God only knows that boy needs some love."

"He told us his real father is in jail, and his mother died. Is that true?" Sherlock nodded.

"That's why I adopted him." Sherlock said, writing out everyone's information. "All set, Mrs. Crawford. Thank you."

"Absolutely." She said, filing away Jonah's card. The boy came in then, another black boy carrying some papers.

"These are from Mrs. Mason." He said.

"Thanks Carl." Devon grinned.

"Of course, Mrs. Crawford. By Jonah."

"By Carl. See you Monday." Jonah said. He looked up. "Oh, hi Molly!" Sherlock smirked as Jonah hugged Molly, then Sherlock.

"You still standing up for that boy?"

"Carl's a nice boy. Why doesn't Mrs. Mason like him?" Jonah asked. Mr. Crawford had the answer, but couldn't exactly tell a seven year old (almost eight) that his teacher was a racist. He had seen the evidence, and would be firing her. But, as it was getting too close to the school year, he knew that there would be no point in hiring a new teacher now. It hadn't been a problem until today.

"Sometimes, Jonah, people aren't going to like you, and they might not even have a reason." Mr. Crawford finally said. Jonah seemed to be okay with that answer, and held his arms out. Sherlock scooped him up, and pressed a kiss to his temple, hidden behind a wavy shock of hair.

"We better get going, son. Your grandparents are expecting us in a few hours."

"How long of a drive is it?" Mr. Crawford asked.

"Four hours." He winced.

"Ouch. I've got a five year old, so good luck." Sherlock smirked, and bade his goodbye's before the trio left. On their way out the door, Sherlock reached over, and took Molly's hand.

As he looked over Sherlock's bony shoulder, he caught Mrs. Crawford's endearing smile.

Sherlock finally pulled into the driveway at 6:30 that night. When it had been decided that they would be visiting more (especially seeing as Sherlock had a reason too) that Sherlock could have the Range Rover. He was the only one who drove it anyway, as Mr. Holmes often took his Jaguar, and Mrs. Holmes drove her Mini-Cooper. Molly helped Jonah out, and they walked inside, while Sherlock helped Alfonse and Joel with the luggage. Each one had an overnight bag.

Sherlock helped Alfonse carry the bags to rooms close to the stairs, as they wouldn't be staying all weekend. They would stay tonight, and go to Mycroft's home tomorrow. After that, they would stay with Molly's mother, until they had to go back home for work and school Monday.

"Sherlock, sweetheart." Mrs. Holmes hugged and kissed her son.

"Mummy." He said, kissing her cheek. "How are you?"

"Better, sense everything." Sherlock grinned, and embraced his father.

"My son, how are you?"

"Wonderful, Father." Sherlock said. Two people came in, both wearing skinny jeans, although one pair was much tighter than the other, and scuffed Converse. Sherlock looked up and grinned.

"Callum, Lily!" He pulled them into a hug at the same time, and he dropped a kiss on Lily's cheek. She squeezed him tighter. "How are you two doing?"

"Wonderfully, Daddy." Lily replied, kissing Sherlock on the cheek. Molly hugged the two teenagers. Alfonse came into the room. After briefly shaking Sherlock's hand, he moved towards Mr. Holmes and told him something.

"Ah." Mr. Holmes said. "Dinner's ready." They went into the dining room, and sat down to dinner. As they ate, the conversed lightly on different matters, like school (Jonah, Callum, and Lily) work (Sherlock and Molly) and family (Mr. and Mrs. Holmes).

After dinner was over, and the family was eating their dessert, sipping wine (in Jonah's case, a plastic wine glass filled with water), Sherlock stood up. He looked at the family seated around the table.

"I have a toast." Sherlock picked up his wine glass, and looked at Molly. "To Molly Hopper, the future Doctor Holmes, and my fiance." Everyone went quiet for a moment. Sherlock smirked at her, and she silently giggled behind her own glass. Jonah was outright giggling.

Suddenly, without warning to anyone in the room, Mrs. Holmes was screaming, and running towards Sherlock. Surprised, Sherlock caught his sobbing mother, and looked a little scared. Molly and Mr. Holmes burst out laughing.

"Mummy, it's quite all right." Sherlock said weakly. "I'm only getting married, why are you crying?"

"My baby!" Came her reply, and Sherlock blushed dark red. His father burst out laughing again.

"Sweetheart, let the man breath." Sherlock was relieved when his father pried his mother off him, and Sherlock turned to receive Lily's hug. She was grinning.

"That's great Dad." Callum said. Molly and Lily were hugging, and giggling about something. Sherlock believed it was rather suspicious looking conversation. Roger had warned him about two girls giggling. He said that it often wasn't good, and had resulted once in Anna pantsing him. Sherlock didn't trust the fact that they were giggling.

"What are they going on about?" Sherlock asked Callum. He rolled his eyes.

"They're discussing how you proposed." Oh. That made sense too...

The next afternoon, they drove the half hour to Mycroft's home, which was just as elegant and beautiful as Holmes Estate. Sherlock drove up the drive way, and parked his car, pulling out their bags, and taking them inside, where Marcus, Mycroft's housekeeper, helped Sherlock take their bags to their rooms. After that, Sherlock went into the family room, and greeted his brother, nephew, and sister-in-law.

"Uncle Sherlock!" Archie said, hugging Sherlock.

"Archie, son, how are you?" Sherlock asked.

"Wonderful."

"Sherlock, I know this isn't a social call." Mycroft said, heaving himself slowly from his chair. Sherlock shook his hand.

"No, I have a piece of rather good news, however." Jonah was sitting on the love seat, next to Archie. His feet dangled over the edge, his small legs not long enough for the boy's feet to touch the floor.

"Oh?" Sherlock sat down on the sofa, while Mycroft resumed his place in his chair, next to Lucinda in the neighboring chair.

"Yes, brother." Sherlock smirked at Molly. "Molly and I are betrothed." Molly suppressed the urge to roll her eyes; betrothed? Honestly, they weren't royalty. Sherlock rested his left hand on her lower thigh, closer to her knee, while his right hand rested in his lap. Mycroft looked at Sherlock, and gave him a look. Sherlock smirked back.

"Betrothed? You?"

"Yes, Mycroft." Lucinda was grinning.

"Don't be so cynacal, My, it's good news." She gave Sherlock possibly the awkwardest hug Molly had ever witnessed from Sherlock. She giggled.

"What does betrothed mean?" Jonah asked.

"It means we're engaged, Jonah." Molly said.

"Oh, okay." He said. Archie was grinning, and he stood. Sherlock also stood.

"That's great Uncle Sherlock." They hugged warmly. "And Molly." Archie laughed, hugging the small woman. "Guess it's Aunt Molly now, eh?" Molly blushed, but laughed.

"You don't have to call me that, Archie." She said. "I don't care." Archie grinned.

The next day, Sherlock was a bit nervous. Mycroft caught up on it in an instant, and pulled his brother aside after lunch. He poured each of them a glass of brandy (Mycroft wasn't taking medications anymore for his wound, only as needed) and handed a tumbler to Sherlock.

"What's troubling you, brother?" Sherlock swirled his drink around, and took a sip.

"Nothing at all."

"Liar." Mycroft said. "I know you better than Roger, tell me what's got your boxers in a bunch." Sherlock couldn't argue with his brother there.

"For the first time in our relationship, I'm meeting Molly's mother." Sherlock said. "And I have no idea what to expect. Molly doesn't say much about her."

"Sherlock, she will be your future mother-in-law. You must do as I did."

"What was that?"

"Treat her like you would Mummy." Mycroft said. "Make her have a reason to believe you are perfect for her daughter. I did so with Lucinda's father." Much like Molly, Lucinda was raised in a single-parent home. Her mother had died when she was in her final years of high school. "I gave him the same respect I would Father, but at the same time I also treated him like family."

"Easy for you to say, brother. You don't have Autism."

"No, I have Aspberger's, which isn't easy either."

"You outgrew it."

"Sherlock, you know better than anyone that Autism in any sense isn't something you just outgrow." Mycroft said, sipping his drink. "You hold onto it for life. Like diabetes, or asthma." Sherlock knew his brother was right.

"True."

"It makes it easier when you love her." That had been the first time Sherlock heard his brother admit that he loved his wife. Even on their wedding day, he hadn't said it in front of everyone. The whole wedding seemed like a business meeting more than a marriage ceremony.

Later, Sherlock was cornered by Archie, who was in the family room, tuning his guitar. "Oh, hey Uncle Sherlock." Sherlock sat down.

"I think I heard a first." Sherlock said, looking at him. Archie looked up, raising an eyebrow at him. "Your father actually admitted to me, for the first time in twenty-four years, that he loves your mother." Archie laughed.

"I can actually count the number of times I've heard them say 'I love you' to one another." He grinned at Sherlock as he plucked the strings of his guitar tunelessly. "But, he has admitted it to me."

"How so?" Sherlock asked, looking at his nephew in curiosity. Archie smiled.

"The one time, Dad decided he wanted to take Mum to dinner, right?" Archie set his guitar on his stand, and he picked up his electric guitar. "He was a nervous wreck. You now how he gets when he's nervous." Archie laughed. "He freaks out and starts organizing things. I've never seen my recording studio so clean." Archie had taken over one of the bedrooms with a microphone, band equipment, a tripod, and a video camera. They posted their videos on the Internet. "I finally stopped him and asked what his problem is. He told me he wanted everything to look perfect." Archie said, looking at Sherlock. "Absolutely perfect. He said he wanted Mum to really smile, to be happy with their plans. Then she came into the living room." He laughed again. "Oh man, I've never seen hs hands shake so bad. She looked gorgeous, of course." Lucinda was attractive, Sherlock gave her that, but that didn't mean he liked her any more than before. "She drove him nuts, wearing this little black dress number, and the most dangerous high heels I've ever seen." Sherlock laughed. "I knew then that he really does love Mum." Archie went quiet for a moment, listening to his guitar as he tuned it. "I know you love Molly." Sherlock looked at his nephew in surprise.

"How?"

"Easy." Archie looked at his uncle. "You're happier. Happier than I've ever seen you. Uncle Sherlock, you're better at singing when she's around, you play your violin better than I've ever heard. You actually straighten your jacket and hair when she walks into a room." Archie looked at Sherlock in the eye, ceasing his twang on the strings of his guitar. "You like her opinions, and you love her. You also are different."

"Different how?"

"You're nicer, that's for sure." Archie bent down to pick something up, and came back with the end of a chord. He jammed it into the end of his guitar. "My friends used to hate you, said you were an arsewhole, a jerk." Archie rested his fingers on the right frets, and, pulling a pick from his pocket, he played a note, loud, and very...rocker-ish. Not quite satisfied, Archie twisted the knobs at the end of his guitar. "One even went as far as to say you were sexist. Possibly racist." He played another note, and shook his head, a slight frown on his face. He tightened another string, loosened another. "When they met you at your knighting ceremony, they liked you a lot better. You were polite, you didn't deduce the hell out of them." He gave Sherlock a knowing look. "Which I'm grateful for, by the way." Sherlock didn't respond. "It was the fact that she made you happy. Something, according to Dad, you haven't been in a very long time." He played another note, then did a full out scale. Satisfied, Archie unplugged his guitar from his amp, and laid it gently in its case.

"You have a girlfriend."

"Why does the fact that you know not surprise me?" Archie muttered, picking up a binder to look through his music.

"Why does the fact that you tuned your guitars by ear surprise me?" Archie blushed slightly. "How did you meet her parents?"

"Easy, went to their house for dinner." Sherlock knew that. Archie and Lucy were currently dating, and John had called Sherlock, furious, asking why his new daughter already had a boyfriend, and why it was Archie, Sherlock's nephew.

"How did you handle her mother?"

"Easy. Treat her like your own mother. With respect and kindness. I made her feel pretty, treated her like royalty. I've always done that with my mother."

"And Mary is okay with you two?" Archie looked surprised. "Don't play stupid, I saw you two dancing at the New Years party." Archie flushed and looked at his music.

"Yeah, she is." Sherlock nodded.

Several hours later, and they were arriving at Molly's childhood home. It was a four bedroom home with a dining room, a kitchen, and two bathrooms. Mrs. Hooper opened the door, grinning.

"Molly, love, do come in." Sherlock hauled in their bags. "I'm afraid I only have two bedrooms, I do apologize." Sherlock didn't mind. In fact, none of them did. "Molly, show Sherlock where to go, don't just stand there." Blushing slightly, she lead Sherlock down the hall.

"I can share a room with Jonah, if you want." Sherlock said.

"Don't be stupid. The guest bedroom has a single bed." She said. "You two can't fit in there. My bedroom has a full sized mattress. We can sleep in the same bed, right?" Sherlock couldn't argue that point. They dropped their bags in the right places, and went back to the family room. Sherlock found Jonah sitting shyly on the floor. There were only two seats left, and Jonah, ever so polite, had chosen one on the floor. Sherlock scooped him up, and sat him on his lap when he sat in the armchair.

"I do apologize. I had to get rid of my old couch, it was falling apart, and my new one doesn't come in until next week."

"That's quite all right, Mrs. Hooper." Sherlock said, holding Jonah in his lap. "I see you've met Jonah, my son."

"Yes, he's quite the sweetheart." Jonah flushed. Sherlock smirked. "You must be Sherlock Holmes."

"Yes. Nice to meet you Mrs. Hooper." Sherlock said, smiling his charming grin. One he gave Molly to make her melt into a pool of blushing, giggling, foolish love. He often used it as a flirting technique with her, as words did not always come easy with him. He'd shoot it across the lab at her, and she would become a blushing, embarrassed mess. The one time, she had accidentally tripped, bringing Anderson down with her. Sherlock laughed. "This is a lovely home."

"Thank you." She said. Sherlock saw the pictures of a girl in Halloween costumes, dance costumes, and nice clothes to wear for school pictures. There was even a few of her in braces. Sherlock had braces even, to correct the lining of his jaw and his bite, more so than to correct his teeth. Molly blushed.

"You still have those pictures of me up?"

"Molly, my parents have pictures of me from thirty years ago in a pirates costume, holding hands with my brother dressed as Frankenstien, and looking like I'm ready to wet my pants rather than trick-or-treat." Molly laughed.

"The pirate costume was cute." He shot her a withering look, which only made Molly laugh harder.

"Molly, learn this now, for it is crucial." He said ."I will not, nor have I ever done..._cute._" Molly laughed. Jonah even giggled.

"I don't think you should call him that anymore Molly." Jonah said. As Sherlock's mobile began vibrating in his pocket, Jonah looked alarmed. "Why is my butt vibrating?" Molly, Sherlock, and Mrs. Hooper burst out laughing.

"It's my mobile, Jonah."

"Oh." He said. "That's a relief." Sherlock smirked, and dug the phone from his pocket, standing up, and dropping Jonah onto his seat, before excusing himself. "Detective Inspector Holmes." Sherlock said, going into his and Molly's bedroom.

"It's me."

"No, I'm busy." Sherlock told the familiar voice on the end of the line. He laid down on the bed, face up.

"I know, I just wanted to see how it was going." Sherlock sat up, surprised.

"Gregory Lestrade, you're making a social call to me?" Lestrade roared with laughter at the sarcasm dripping from Sherlock's voice.

"First of all, my name isn't Gregory. It's Gregor." Sherlock had known that, he just wanted to make his boss correct him out of pure annoyance. "Secondly, I was worried about you two. Are you at Molly's?"

"Yes. Her mother is a bit quiet."

"Has been sense Molly's father died. She's sweet though, don't worry. She'll like you. She liked me, and you know I'm not exactly the type mothers like." Greg was the tough cop image in his younger days, and it wouldn't have surprised Sherlock if Molly's mother hadn't liked Greg. "Word of advice, she likes it when you like her cooking. Shouldn't be too hard, her cookies melt in your mouth." Sherlock grinned.

"Have a soft spot for Mrs. Hooper, Greg?"

"I do, actually. She's like a mother to me." He admitted, not at all embarrassed. "I'll let you go."

"Thank you, Greg." Sherlock said, before hanging up. He came back into the room, scooped Jonah back up, and sat down. "Forgive me, it was Greg Lestrade."

"Greg?" Molly looked surprised, then annoyed. "Where?"

"No case. No, he was curious about us."

"He called you? To be social?" Molly asked, then laughed. Mrs. Hooper looked surprised. "Doesn't he know that you don't call him for purely social reasons?"

"No, and I won't start now. Did you know his real first name is Gregor?"

"I did, actually." Molly said. A buzzer went off.

"Dinner is ready." Jonah jumped off Sherlock's lap. He helped Mrs. Hooper with everything. "Such a good helper, Jonah."

"Thank you." He said. "I like to help people." Sherlock smiled, and they sat down. As they ate, Sherlock and Molly told Mrs. Hooper about how they met, and how their jobs tended to coincide. Sherlock and Molly secretly held hands under the table, although Jonah knew what they were doing.

"So, you said you had news?"

"Yes." Sherlock said. He looked at Molly.

"Mum, we're getting married." Mrs. Hooper looked up in surprise, then screamed. She hugged them both and got teary eyed.

"Oh, my baby's settling down." Molly blushed. Sherlock smiled. "What are you're plans for the wedding?"

"We only just decided this." Sherlock said. "About three days ago. We preferred to tell everyone in person."John had found out the night before they left, and had been surprised, then excited.

"Well, I know an amazing baker who could whip up a wedding cake."

"That would be wonderful, actually." Sherlock said. "My landlady would otherwise make it herself, and I really don't want her making more than she needs to." He would ask Mrs. Hudson if she could instead do something without as much of an effort. Her hip had been especially bad lately.

"Who are you asking in the line up?" Sherlock looked at Molly.

"Mary is my Maiden of Honor, because she's my best friend."

"I was considering my cousin Roger as best man."

"Not Mycroft?"

"Not with his health issues and such." Sherlock said. "Especially because of his heart attack."

"Is this little cutie doing anything?" Mrs. Hooper rumpled Jonah's shaggy hair. He blushed slightly.

"Ring bearer." Sherlock said.

"What is that, Dad?" Jonah asked.

"The ring bearer gets to carry a pillow with the rings on it down the aisle." Sherlock said. "We can hire Archie's band."

"Callum is part of that!" Jonah said.

"Yes, he is, Jonah." Sherlock said.

"Who is Callum, dear?"

"My son." Sherlock said simply. "And Lily could be our flower girl?" Molly grinned.

"That would be wonderful. Is it ironic in any way that lilies just happen to be my favorite flower?" Sherlock grinned. Mrs. Hooper looked confused.

"Lily is my daughter, Mrs. Hooper."

"You have children?"

"From a prior...relationship." Sherlock said. "I was young, careless, and almost married her."

"What happened?" Mrs. Hooper asked. Sherlock glanced at Molly.

"She died." Sherlock said. "But, as she wished, I moved on, and found a new hope." Sherlock grinned at Molly, who blushed bright red. "Actually, two." He glanced at Jonah, who grinned.

"What if we make Sally the flower girl." Molly asked. "And Lily could be behind Mary. So John can be included too." Sherlock nodded.

"Not a bad idea."

"Who's Sally?"

"My cousin Roger's daughter." Sherlock said. "She's the same age as Jonah." He pushed his curly mop of hair out of his face. He really needed a haircut, Molly noticed. "We'll discuss more of this later on." Sherlock said. "Jonah's still in school, so we've got a little while."

"When do you get out?"

"June." Jonah said.

Later that evening, Sherlock found Molly on the patio, curled up in a chair, reading a book. Sherlock eased into the neighboring chair, and reached over. He gently brushed his fingers up and down her upper arm. She looked at him and grinned.

"Hey you." She said playfully, shutting her book, and taking his hand. Sherlock grinned, leaned in, and pressed his lips to hers. Suddenly, his mobile vibrated. Groaning, he broke off the kiss and pulled his mobile out. Molly laughed. HE answered it.

"It's Doctor Scott." Doctor Scott was Sherlock's optometrist. "You're glasses are in, Detective Inspector."

"Thank you, Doctor." Sherlock said. They hung up. He groaned. "My glasses came in." Molly winked at him, and leaned in to kiss him, her lips nearly touching his.

"I think you'd look sexy in glasses." She breathed, before pressing her lips to his. Sherlock froze in his spot, kissing her back fiercely.

Behind them, Jonah and Mrs. Hooper looked at each other, and smiled.

That night, Sherlock came back from the bathroom, and went into the room he shared with Molly. She was in bed, reading. He crawled in next to her, and pulled on his reading glasses so he could look at what she was reading.

"What are you reading?"

"A romance novel." Sherlock rolled his eyes and sighed. "What?"

"Sounds typical for you." He muttered. "You read for entertainment?"

"No, to escape reality." She said. "Sometimes it's nice to read of other worlds." Sherlock looked at her, and nodded in understanding.

After a moment, she turned off the bedside lamp, and snuggled under the covers. Sherlock snuggled in close, and wrapped himself around her, his arms going around her waist. Molly snuggled into his warm frame.

_Oh yes._ Sherlock thought. _I could could get used to this._

Upon waking up the next morning, they both secretly realized that they had never slept better.

True love at it's finest.


	35. The Talk

March turned into April, and April became May. Before Jonah knew it, it was the end of the school year, and it was looming closer and closer to Sherlock's wedding day. Sherlock would be taking a two week vacation for his honeymoon, and wanted to spend his last few weeks before leaving with Jonah. He would spend plenty of time with Molly, so he needed some father-son time. First, they went fishing. Sherlock, despite his love for constant action, had enjoyed fishing when he was younger. He went with his father as a boy. Jonah seemed to enjoy the time chatting quietly with his father, and sitting in the cool breeze. After that, they went to the zoo. Sherlock also took Jonah golfing, and taught him how to golf. Even though Sherlock hated it, he enjoyed watching Jonah struggle, then succeed. Jonah begged him to teach him how to bat, so they went to some batting cages, and Sherlock taught him how to bat. They also went to violin concerts, had days where they played in the park, and Sherlock even allowed Jonah to tag along on tedious cases his freelance job gave him, ones where the murder victim wasn't too brutally murdered. Jonah often found little things Sherlock hadn't. The entire Yard was fascinated with Jonah's point of view on the world.

Jonah often looked at a naive viewpoint, childlike, and innocent, but it often helped them see the picture of the murder. Even when Sherlock was stumped, Jonah had always seemed to make connections, whether he uttered a simple word like "love" to a deduction more complex than Sherlock's usual train of thought. Quite often, when Molly came over, she found Jonah and Sherlock looking over a case, and pondering. Sense it was illegal for Jonah to work with the Yard, Lestrade just tagged along on Sherlock's freelance cases. More often than not, they wound up arresting someone anyway, so it was a convenience to Sherlock.

Jonah also spent his time reading, every text that Sherlock owned. He even read the dictionary, although why, Sherlock hadn't figured that one out yet. He used bigger words than Sherlock ever knew at Jonah's age (which is saying something quite impressive), and he was vastly intelligent. What Sherlock treasured the most was the father son moments.

Jonah liked to sit next to his father, while his father read him a book. It could be anything, and Jonah would listen until Sherlock's voice had gone hoarse, or until one of them had to get up for any reason. Jonah would look enraptured, and fascinated, even when Sherlock read him a textbook on beekeeping.

Jonah was also a curious lad, and asked many questions. Sometimes, Sherlock didn't have an answer. Most of the time, Sherlock didn't know if Jonah was mature enough for the answer. Sherlock knew eventually that he'd have to have a very long, embarrassing talk with Jonah. He was only getting older, and puberty wasn't very far around the corner anymore. John had found Sherlock a few books for Jonah, ones that would help the boy understand what was happening to his body, and the way things changed. That way, if he was too embarrassed to ask Sherlock, he could read about it, which would be all right with the book-consuming boy.

One night, three days before their wedding day, Sherlock and Molly were in the kitchen. They had put Jonah to bed, and it was now late. They were drinking tea in the kitchen.

"You mean you haven't told him?"

"I don't know how to tell him." Sherlock said. "Remember, I've never actually done this before." Molly giggled.

"I do know, Sherlock. I was surprised you didn't fill the kids head with pure facts about the human body."

"You know a good book on the human body?" Sherlock asked. "One for eight year old boys? His birthday's the day before our wedding, I'd like to get him one. Or lots of books, rather. He's fascinated by books."

"I know a good bookstore. Let's go get him some books. You need any to talk to him?"

"No, John gave me a few. They appeal to Jonah's curious nature." Sherlock took a sip of his tea. "He's a fascinating creature, Jonah." Molly and Sherlock held hands across the table. He pushed up his newly acquired glasses. "He's curious about the world. About life. He has so many questions. He often stumps me with them." Molly liked listening to Sherlock go on about the boy. His face lit up in a way that was different. Not one that made Molly less special to him, just...different. "He wants to try new sports, and new games. He likes fishing, and he's okay at golf. He's good at baseball." Sherlock said.

"You took him fishing and golfing?"

"I like fishing. My father and I went a lot when I was a boy." Sherlock said, looking at her, and sipping his tea. "Golfing, I hate. But it was more fun to watch Jonah get excited when he finally figured it all out." Molly smiled. He kissed her hand.

"Can I adopt him?" Sherlock looked momentarily surprised.

"Yes. As soon as we come back from our honeymoon, we'll go up to the courthouse to get it all set up." Sherlock said. "If you'd like."

"I'd love it." Molly said, smiling. Sherlock toyed with her engagement ring. "I'll pick up the books, and we'll make them from us?" Sherlock nodded. "On the condition that you talk to him tomorrow." Sherlock nodded.

"I promise." Sherlock said, leaning in, and kissing her lips.

The next night, after Sherlock had talked to Molly about Jonah's gift, Sherlock went into Jonah's room, where Jonah often stretched out across his floor to draw, or read. This time, he had a book open, and he was drawing a picture.

"Jonah, son?" He looked up. "You want to go for a walk with me in the park?" Summer school had been in, as well as camp, and Sherlock knew the kids in the city would be in either place, and they would have the park mainly to themselves.

Sherlock and Jonah walked through the park, and Sherlock told him everything. He forced himself not to get to uncomfortable, especially with Jonah's bluntness in his questions. At the end of the conversation, Sherlock asked Jonah if he had any more questions.

"Yeah." Jonah asked. "Is that where babies come from?" Sherlock blushed.

"Partially, yes." Sherlock said. "It's different, obviously, from the girls point of view."

"How?" Sherlock blushed darker.

"Why don't you ask Molly that question. Maybe Mrs. Hudson." Jonah rolled his eyes.

"You're embarrassed to talk about girl stuff?"

"With you, yes. It's different talking to Molly." Sherlock said. "I don't have to try and explain things I haven't experienced." Jonah seemed to understand that.

"Okay." He said. "_Then_ will you tell me where babies come from? I mean, honestly tell me? Not the whole 'it takes a Mummy and a Daddy to make a baby' line you used when I was little." Sherlock sighed. "I'm almost eight, Dad. I think I'm mature enough to handle that information."

"Oh, you do now, do you?" Sherlock asked in disbelief. Was he really hearing this from Jonah right now?" Jonah nodded.

"Dad, come on, you know me better than anyone. Would I really be that bad about it?" Sherlock had to agree with the boy there. "Besides, John'll tell me."

"You wouldn't dare!" Sherlock said indignantly.

"I would dare." Jonah said. They both stared at one another, and burst out laughing.

"Come on, son. Let's get you home." Sherlock and Jonah walked back to 221B Baker Street, and had lunch. Sherlock asked Jonah what he'd like for his birthday. He only shrugged. "You'll be eight. Don't you want anything at all?"

"Not anything special. Books would be nice."

"Speaking of books, I didn't mention this earlier in case you were adverse to the idea, but John gave me several books that might satify your curiosity about what we just discussed." Jonah nodded.

"Okay."

"If you do have questions, son, don't hesitate to ask. Me, Molly, or even John. They're doctors, they'll know." Sherlock said. Jonah nodded.

"Thanks Dad." Sherlock smiled, and reached over to rumple the boy's hair. He smiled. Sherlock missed the cheeky, child-like grin he'd lost as his birthday loomed closer to eight.

The following morning Sherlock got up early, and made Jonah's favorite breakfast- french toast, bacon, and orange juice. Jonah ate happily, and Molly came over.

"Go on and get dressed, son." Sherlock said. "I want to discuss something with Molly." He walked away.

"I have an idea of what to get Jonah, something we can really use to fill that mind." Molly looked confused. "My old laptop. I had Wiggins refurbish it for me, and it works better than when it was new. He'll love it." Sherlock said. "It's in my bedroom, I'll have to go get it." She nodded. Sherlock walked off, threw on clothes, and grabbed the box. He went into the living room.

"Here you are, sweetie." Molly said, handing Jonah her box. "It's a bit heavy." Curious, Jonah opened it. Inside were all sorts of books. Ones about plants, and ones about bugs. Ones about the human body, and ones about cars.

"Wow, thanks Molly!" Jonah said, grinning. "I love these!"

"Here you are son." Sherlock said. "Mind you, it looks a bit worn, but it works quite well." Puzzled, Jonah opened the box. His jaw dropped.

"Wow, you're old laptop? Thanks Dad!" Sherlock smiled. "This is great. I have books to read, and I can look up more about what's in the books later."

"I can get you to the websites that have the perfect amount of information." Sherlock said. Jonah grinned, and hugged them.

"I love you guys." Jonah said. "Thank you."

"You're quite welcome son."

"Of coarse, honey." Molly said. They hugged again. Later that day, they went to Roger's to see Sally, where she gave him a home-made card, and they gave him a photo album full of pictures. Jonah loved it, and was found later that evening, after a family dinner of Sherlock and Jonah at Angelo's, looking through it.

All in all, Sherlock decided that Jonah had a good birthday.

**All right, so this update was faster than expected. I'm sorry for the lack of updates. I've been under a bought of writer's block. Also, if I start lacking in updates, I do apologize. I'm doing the NaNoWriMo contest next month, and have to decide what my idea is days before I actually do it. Otherwise, it'll never get done. Like usual. So, wish me luck. If you guys would like to try it, I'll have the link to the website on my page, plus everywhere else you can contact me. On my YouTube page, I have a video dedicated to our wonderful boys, Mr. Cmberbatch and Mr. Freeman, along with others. It's a fan tribute to their friendship to the song "You've Got a Friend in Me" by Lyle Lovette and Randy Newman. Thank you in advanced. I'll see you all in the next chapter. Fell free to PM at any time with questions, comments, concerns, or just because you need to talk to someone.**


	36. The Marriage

Sherlock adjusted his coat and bow tie. He was completely calm, and rational. He knew there was nothing to be nervous about. Well, he thought so, until several different images of Molly in different wedding gowns ran through his head, then he began to panic. Roger and John were calming him, while Mycroft paced silently. He was anxious to start the ceremony.

Once the gentlemen arrived, they played usher for a while, and seated their guests to the right spots. Jonah, who would be walking with Sally down the aisle, was looking paler by the minute. Sherlock eventually picked up the boy, and carried him to the nearest bathroom.

"So, what is it?"

"There are people..."

"There were more at John's wedding."

"Not Prince Harry and Prince William! Not the Prime Minister, and certainly not..." Jonah's pale face was suddenly tinged with pink. Sherlock smirked.

"Sally wasn't your partner?" Jonah shook his head.

"Dad, I'm nervous about seeing her. What do I do?"

"Take a deep breath, son." Jonah did. Greg came in.

"Come on, Sherlock, it's nearly time."

"Give us five minutes, Jonah's panicking." Sherlock said. Greg looked surprised, and crouched down.

"Hey, you okay?"

"He's nervous about Sally." Greg smiled.

"Listen all right? You're old Dad here is internally panicking right now too about seeing Molly."

"He is?" Jonah asked. Sherlock nodded. It was true, he couldn't lie to Jonah. Ever time he thought about it, his stomach clenched.

"Yes. And I've seen her. You'll be the luckiest boy in the church." Jonah smiled. "She's nervous too, so you have to take a deep breath, and make sure she knows you guys can hang on to one another." Jonah nodded.

"Okay." He said. "Thanks, Greg." They hugged. Greg stood up, and adjusted his suit. "Come on, Dad, you'll be late for your wedding."

"You'll be okay?" Sherlock asked.

"You guys helped me. I'll be okay." They went to line up. Sherlock, Roger, John, then Mycroft lined up. They were awaiting their partners. When the music queued, John started grinning as Mary walked down the aisle.

"I must say, John, you do pick them well." Mycroft said. John blushed. Sherlock took a deep breath. He knew Molly would be coming soon. It made him a wreck. He could see his mother and father already grinning. Next came Megan, who would be walking with John, as Roger was Sherlock's best man. He didn't want to decide, but Roger had known him better than Sherlock knew himself at times. John had too, but Roger had been there for longer. John was flattered that Sherlock would even consider more than one guest. He hadn't realized it was slightly part of the fact that Molly chose more than one bridesmaid. Next, came Lily, who looked beautiful. Sherlock grinned at her. Callum and Archie, from the music section, grinned too. Calvin looked enraptured by her pure beauty alone. No lust shone in his eyes. If it did, he was good about hiding it from Sherlock.

"I knew I liked Calvin for a reason." Sherlock muttered. Roger chuckled. Sherlock grinned at Lily, who smiled back. His eyes turned to the aisle, and he wanted to laugh, out of the fatherly affection at the sight before him.

Jonah, complete with a tuxedo and bow tie, looked handsome, and he proudly carried the pillow bearing the rings. On his arm was Sally, looking beautiful in her dress. Jonah was blushing like crazy, and people were laughing in endearment. Sally was looking rather proud of herself. Next to him, Sherlock felt Roger tense.

"Relax, their eight, What are they going to do?" Roger nodded once, and slowly relaxed. Jonah looked rather pleased that he'd done his job well, and he grinned at Sherlock. Sally grinned at Roger.

"Well done, Jonah." John hissed. Jonah grinned.

"Thanks Uncle John." He replied. John smiled. Everyone stood, and Sherlock, taking a deep breath, looked up. Roger looked at Molly in surprise.

"I must say, Sherlock. You made a wonderful choice." She had on a simple white gown that had spaghetti straps to hold it up. Her hair was done in loose curls, then pinned to her head in a elegant fashion. Her small heel and simple make up did the job perfectly. Sherlock was stunned. Greg in his pale gray tuxedo escorted her down the aisle, looking very much the part of brig brother. Sherlock walked uneasily towards her, and Greg handed her off after a warm hug, and a kiss on the cheek.

"You take care of her now." Greg hissed. Sherlock could barely nod, let alone speak. Molly shakily took his arm, and they went towards the priest.

"You look amazing." Sherlock whispered in her ear. She turned pink.

"Thanks." She whispered back, and handed her flowers to Mary. Sherlock and Molly stood facing each other, their hands clasped together. Sherlock turned to stare at her face, and nowhere else. As the wedding droned on, and Archie played away at the piano in the appropriate spots, Sherlock continued to marvel at her. Eventually, they got to the part that Sherlock was looking forward to.

"With this ring, I thee wed." Sherlock said., sliding on the wedding band. His mother sobbed with Mrs. Hooper.

"With this ring I thee wed." Molly replied, tears running down her face, and grinning.

"I now pronounce you man and wife. You may now kiss the bride." Sherlock took her face gently with his long, slender, musicians fingers, and pressed his lips to hers. Around them, cheers erupted and a wolf whistle came from who Sherlock suspected to be Lestrade.

Sherlock turned with his new wife to face the congregation, holding tightly to her hand.

"May I present you, Mr. and Mrs. Sherlock Archibald James Holmes." Everyone stood and cheered. Sherlock offered Molly his arm, and she took it. They kissed again, and walked their way back up the aisle.


	37. The Reception

Sherlock and Molly were sitting at the head table, waiting for dinner to be finished. They were waiting for the first dance. Mixed feelings ran through Sherlock. Partially, he was nervous, because Molly looked so stunning, and partially excited to show the world that Molly Hooper was his. Jonah looked downright adorable in his tuxedo, sitting with Sally, giggling his head off. Mrs. Hudson laughed at them in a way that showed she believed them to be endearing. Roger, on Molly's right, was leaned in close to Anna, and laughing.

"Sherlock." Molly said, looking behind him. He found Roger standing up.

"Best man speech, cousin." He said, grinning, and swiping his drink off the table in front of him. Everyone went quiet. "Molly, good luck with this one, love, he's a right handful." She burst out laughing. "I've seen you two together though, it shouldn't be too different. Jonah seems to be fond of you. He told me the other day, 'My daddy has the best girlfriend ever. She's smart, pretty, and funny.'" Molly blushed, and Sherlock looked at Jonah, who was also blushing. "According to Jonah, Sherlock has, on numerous occasions, called you 'cute' or 'beautiful.'" Molly looked at Sherlock, smiling sweetly. Sherlock looked elsewhere, failing to hold back his blush. "He never even said that to..." They looked at one another, Molly and Roger, and understood at once. "Anyway, best of luck to you, Molly." He grinned. "Sherlock..." Sherlock looked up at his cousin.

"Roger." He replied.

"You're the same snarky git I knew and loved back when we were boys. But you're a hell of a lot easier to deal with now, and according to a young Lily Holmes you're a kick-ass father too." Sherlock blushed and glanced at Lily, who grinned. "I got to say, mate, you're also an equally great cousin. You were there when Mum and Dad died. You figured out that they were murdered, not just accidentally killed. You saved my daughter's life, and my own. I owe so much." Roger said. "So much that I don't think I can repay you ever. I guess what I'm trying to say is thank you, and good luck mate. Marriage is a journey. You'll have moments where the world comes crashing down around you and you can only cling tightly to one another and cry. Remember, both of you. I will always be there when you fall. Always." Sherlock nodded. Roger forced Sherlock to his feet, and hugged him, despite Sherlock's slight resilience to the hug. Molly also hugged him. Sherlock lead his wife to the dance floor, and slowly danced with her. They were the only couple on the floor, swaying in time with the music, lost in the moment.

Soon, as one song drifted into two, then three, Sherlock and Molly were surrounded by people dancing. Calvin and Lily were swaying back and forth, and even Anderson and Sally (Molly had insisted on inviting Anderson, apparently they were distant cousins) were dancing. After a couple more songs, Sherlock and Molly got drinks, and he introduced her to family she hadn't met. As she talked to an Uncle from Bosnia, Sherlock got bored, and decided to deduce people. Mycroft had suddenly joined them.

"Who?"

"Mary's pregnant." Sherlock said.

"John's wife Mary?" Mycroft asked, surprised. Sherlock nodded.

"Mummy's looking to spend some time dancing with Father alone, no interruptions." Sherlock said.

"We're going to slow it down for the dads and their daughters. This one goes out to you, Sherlock and Lily." The DJ said. Sherlock walked towards his daughter, and lead her to the dance floor, and danced with her. She suddenly had tears in her eyes.

"Lily, what's wrong?" She smiled at him.

"I've imagined what this would be like for a long time." She said. Sherlock smiled, and kissed her forehead. "Thank you for everything the past few months. It's been amazing, Daddy." She said.

"You're quite welcome." Sherlock said, smiling. "I've missed you, you know."

"You said in all your letters." Lily sniffled slightly. "I wish I could have wrote back. The picture of Mummy you gave us was sweet. But you and Molly fit better together." Off to the side, Lestrade and Molly were dancing, and Molly was looking a little sad, but still smiling. Lestrade's kids couldn't make it back from school in time for the wedding, so Lestrade had taken it upon himself to dote on Molly like a loving brother, instead of a dance with his daughter. "He seems to young to be her father."

"Her father died." Sherlock said. "She has no brothers, her grandparents were dead before she was born, so she has him left." Lily rested her head on his shoulder. They were quiet. Sherlock caught John and Lucy dancing. A few feet farther back, Roger had Sally in his arms, and was rotating in a circle, much like if he were dancing with an adult.

"Aww." Lily said. "That's sweet." Sherlock didn't say anything.

After the Daddy/Daughter dance, Sherlock asked his mother for a dance. He went around to an Aunt of his, to Anna, and even to Lucy, who blushed slightly, and accepted shyly. He danced with Megan, and Mary, and Callum's new girlfriend Gia, who was sweet, shy, and completely surprised. Sherlock even made his way around to dance with Donovan, which got weird.

"Married, eh Freak?" Sherlock didn't respond. "Who knew you would get married?"

"Who knew you'd marry Anderson?" She couldn't fight him there. Molly danced passed with Mr. Holmes, looking shocked.

"Touche." She said. "Who knew you'd wind up with kids?" Sherlock smirked.

"Who knew you'd get knocked up?"

"You have me there." She replied. Their banter was almost friendly. Almost.

"Can I cut in?" Sherlock turned to Anderson.

"Of course. I have a wife to dance with anyway." Sherlock said, walking away.

"Sherlock." He turned to them. Donovan was looking at him. "Good luck."

"Thank you." He said, before glancing at Molly walking away, and sweeping her into his arms, and off towards the dance floor.

After stuffing cake in each other's mouths, and Sherlock removing Molly's garter with his teeth, flinging it at a now-spluttering Mycroft, then Molly tossing her boquet, laughing when Sally Holmes happened to catch it, did they decide to leave.

On their way to tell everyone goodbye, Sherlock stopped Molly. His parents swayed back and forth on the dance floor, looking happy. As did Mycroft and Lucinda (for once). But that's not what he was watching. He looked passed Greg and Megan dancing, past John chatting with Callum, Lily and Calvin snogging and dancing, and Archie dancing with Lucy. It was the sight of Jonah and Sally, her arms around his neck, his hands on her waist that caught their attention.

"Awww." Molly said. "That's adorable."

"I've got the picture, Sherlock." Lucy said. "I'll print it for you guys so you can have it after you come back." Sherlock nodded.

"We're leaving for the night." Lucy and Archie hugged them.

"Have fun, Uncle Sherlock." Archie said, grinning. He took Lucy's hand, and they walked away. Sherlock went to Roger and Anna next.

"Leaving?" Sherlock nodded. "Listen, 'Lock." Sherlock chuckled.

"It's been a long time sense anyone's called me that." Roger smiled.

"Have fun, and take care of each other, okay?" Sherlock and Roger hugged. After they broke the hug, Jonah and Sally walked over. Sherlock hugged them both, and picked Jonah up.

"You be good for Roger, all right?" Tears had filled Jonah's eyes.

"I'll miss you, Daddy." He said, hugging Sherlock tightly.

"I'll miss you too, Jonah." Sherlock said. Molly dropped a kiss on Jonah's head. Sherlock also hugged Lily and Callum, shook hands with Calvin, said his farewells (adding in an awkward hug) with Mycroft, and kissed his parents goodbye. There was an emotional goodbye with John as well, where John nearly cried, and Mary _was_ crying. As they left, Jonah called out, "Mum, Dad!" Molly and Sherlock turned around and he waved. "I love you."

"Love you too, son."

"Love you too, Jonah." They grinned and went into the car. Sherlock started up the engine, and they started to drive away. Sherlock had decided not to tell Molly where they were going, and handed Mary a credit card, had her buy Molly the right clothes, and packed for her.

Away they went to their honeymoon.


	38. The Consumation

Late evening the following day had them in a hotel room, where they were stiff, a bit full after a nice dinner, and jet-lagged. After they unpacked in the hotel, Sherlock, who knew it was too early for them to go to bed, plugged in his iPod dock, and nestled his iPhone onto it. He picked a song list, and slowly danced with Molly around their room.

At some point, Sherlock wasn't entirely sure when, they both collapsed on the bed, and frantically started removing their clothes. Sherlock pressed his lips in light kisses down her body as they tore at clothes.

As he slowly entered her, "Hallelujah" by Rufus Wainwright came on the music. They moved together, Molly having adjusted to Sherlock's size, and went slowly.

As if on queue, the song went, "And remember when I moved in you, the Holy Dark was moving too, and every breath we drew was hallelujah." Sherlock leaned his head in towards' Molly's ear, and breathed "Hallelujah" rather seductively in her ear. She shivered.

After they had climaxed, and collapsed exhausted to the bed, Molly finally burst out laughing, getting what Sherlock meant by the single word he had whispered to her.

Three days later, and the newly married couple were finally pulling themselves out of bed, and to the showers. Sherlock pulled on his boxers, and ran when his mobile went off.

"DI Holmes."

"Dad!" Jonah said.

"Jonah, son, hello." Sherlock said. "How are you?"

"I'm lonely sometimes, cause I miss you." Sherlock's heart broke in two. "But it's okay, because Sally and Roger come over for a little while, and I don't miss you as much, because I don't have to think about it lots." Sherlock smiled. For a seven year old, Jonah sure had good reasoning.

"Well, I'm glad Sally makes you feel better." Molly was wincing, like everything was sore. "Hey, you want to talk to Molly for a minute? I have to finish getting dressed."

"Okay." He said. Sherlock handed Molly the phone, pressed a kiss lightly to her forehead, and went back to the bathroom where he had left his clothes. He pulled them on, dressed, brushed his teeth, and pulled his shoes on. When he came back, Molly was laughing.

"Is that so, Jonah?" Sherlock raised an eyebrow inquiringly at his wife. "Jonah says you snore." Sherlock flushed.

"Do not." He said, walking off to check around for a good restaurant. They were in France, an area Sherlock and Molly had both been to, so it wouldn't be a huge disappointment if they spent their week eating and shagging like rabbits.

"You keeping Mrs. Hudson busy?" Molly asked, turning the phone to speaker.

"Yeah, she's a lot of fun, and really nice too. I see why Daddy likes her."

"She has done wonders for me."

"Am I on speaker phone?" Jonah asked accusingly. They laughed.

"Yes." Molly said. "So your dad could talk too." After a while, they hung up, and went for a night on the town. After that, they came home late, and were in bed again, this time exhausted from the previous nights...endeavors.

Yeah...that's what we'll call it...endeavors.

**Sooooo sorry that this isn't long. I was planning on longer, but I'm not feeling well (again!) and NaNoWriMo starts in two hours. So I'm trying not to abandon you. If I need help, I'll use fanfiction to come to you all. You have been very supportive. Thank you all for the comments on this fanfiction. They will help me get through to the 50,000 word mark by the end of November.**


	39. The Welcoming

Sherlock and Molly drove home in the Range Rover, heading to drop their luggage off at home. John had asked them to come over after they got back for a small party for the end of summer, just so John could get a good use out of his new grill that Molly, Sherlock, Mary, and Lestrade had pitched in together to buy him. They dropped their suitcases off at 221B and headed out. Mrs. Hudson, Greg, Megan, Roger, Anna, Sally, Jonah, Callum, Lily, and Archie were for sure going to be there. Sherlock hadn't known who else would be.

"Why after our honeymoon?" Molly asked.

"I think it's because he has today and tomorrow off." Sherlock said, turning down John's street. "So if guests stay late, they can sleep in."

"Or have sex when we're gone." Sherlock laughed one of his deep, baritone laughs. "You know how newly weds can be." Sherlock smirked at her.

"Oh, you mean like us." She grinned.

"Exactly like us." Sherlock was astounted by the differences in Molly. Before he fell, she was nervous and shy around him, and thought little of the way she looked. Now, she was confident, strong, and comfortable around him. They were a dysfunctional couple, but it worked for them. Sherlock parked in the driveway, because it was the only available spot without them having to walk down the street. That, and John had said "Sherlock, feel free to park in the driveway when you get there." They got out, and Sherlock held his hand out, waiting for Molly to take it. They walked into the backyard where they heard the noise.

"Awww, John!" Across two trees, there was a sign reading "Welcome Home Sherlock and Molly." And their friends were all standing there, grinning. Sherlock was scanning the crowd, looking for one small face in particular.

"Daddy!" He heard, and Jonah came running as fast as he could. Sherlock grinned, and crouched down, holding out his long, skinny arms. He ran right at Sherlock, and into his embrace, while Sherlock lifted him up. Callum and Lily made their way over, hugging Molly to give Sherlock time with his son. "Daddy, I missed you."

"I missed you as well, my son." Sherlock said, hugging Jonah tighter. He let Jonah down to hug Molly, then turned to his older two kids to hug them. Lily even pressed a kiss to his cheek, and squeezed him tightly. Callum hugged him briefly. He moved in, to where the crowd of people had congregated towards them. Greg shook Sherlock's hand, and hugged Molly.

"How was it?" Roger asked.

"Magnificent." Molly said. "We were in the countryside of France." Roger laughed, wrapping an arm around Sherlock's shoudlers.

"Haven't you seen France enough? We've got family out there, mate." Sherlock nodded.

"Yes, in the city. Not in the countryside." Sherlock said.

"Grandmere lived in the country side." Roger said.

"I thought that was just her vacation house." Sherlock said. Roger wondered.

"Oh, is that what it was?" Sherlock nodded, and turned to John.

"I thought you said it was only people-"

"You know." John said, grinning. Anderson, Donovan, Dimmock, and several other's from the force were there. Sherlock shook hands with some of them, and Molly hugged her friends from Barts. Sherlock looked around the massive back yard.

There was the pool, and the tables as usual, but there was also a small stage, built for travel, and band instruments. Archie's band must have offered to play. There was also a dance floor laid out for couples, but by their arrival they had obviously abandoned it in order to greet them.

"Where did the music and such come from?" Molly asked John, hugging him.

"Archie's band." He said. Sherlock looked at his grinning nephew.

"Mark's uncle used to have the stage and dance floor for being a dj, and he's got new stuff, so he let us have it for us, so we can improve.

"That's cool. So you can do outdoor giggs." Archie nodded.

"Our manager has us lined up for a wedding next week." Archie pushed up his Aviator sunglasses, and adjusted his Snapback on his head.

"Who's your manager?" Sherlock asked.

"A friend of Lucy's." Archie said. "Lucy does the photography, and her buddy Derek does our website." Sherlock was impressed. They were really working on getting their names out there. Archie shook hands with Sherlock, and gently embraced Molly. Lucy also, to Sherlock's surprise, hugged him.

"I think Dad missed two weeks with no cases." Sherlock smirked at her.

"No surprise, that's all he did besides work and going out with your mother." He muttered to her. She giggled. Sherlock found his brother, and shook hands. To his surprise, his sister-in-law and parents were there as well. Sherlock hugged his parents, and turned to John once the festivities started.

"Welcome home party, John? Really?" He grinned at Sherlock.

"Well, yes. It was all Jonah's idea, to have one. We figured it would be more fun like this." Sherlock rolled his eyes. Go figure. "You guys did bring bathing suits, didn't you?" Molly and Sherlock nodded.

"We've got them on under our clothes." Molly said. "How's everything at Barts?"

"I dunno how they manage without you Molly. Mike was telling me that the new trainee is completely clueless." Molyl sighed.

"Great, another student." She groaned. John laughed.

"You can enjoy the day off with Sherlock and Jonah. When are you planning on adopting him as yours?"

"As soon as I can. Sherlock asked Mycroft about adding me on. I might just wind up talking to Mycroft." As if on queue, the British government himself walked in.

"Hello, Doctor Holmes." She blushed at the name; despite how amazing it sounded, it was going to take some getting used to. "I have Jonah's adoption papers, they came into my office yesterday. We can add your name to them at once."

"Wonderful. Should we come by your office tomorrow?"

"Nonsense, I'll drop by 221B." Sherlock nodded. "I also have your wedding present ready. I'll send you the details once I've got them." Sherlock nodded. That meant that Anthea would be there. "I might even just meet you there, Molly, with the papers."

"Whatever works, Mycroft." She said. Mycroft was quite fond of Molly. Normally he didn't do with sentiment, much like his own brother and wife, but he knew that something had made Sherlock a better man. He'd made amends with his children, and had gotten back into their lives. He had a son he loved to pieces, and may be a Godfather, judging by John's behavior towards his wife...

"Come on, food's almost ready." Greg and John were grilling. Sherlock and Molly slid into the table, and sat with Jonah, Callum, and Lily. Lucy started talking to Lily, asking her about drawing and such. Archie slid in, and pressed a light kiss to Lucy's head. Sherlock smirked in half-amusement, half-knwoingly.

"What if we made you a blogging website? I have a friend who's doing Arch's website for his band." Arch? Really?

"Really? Cool. Even if he could show me how to work with it, add more and take away uncessary things, you know."

"Oh, he'd like that." Lucy said. "He likes showing off his knowledge." Lily laughed.

"I've got a man like that. Calvin's the biggest show off about his knowledge."

"What's his specialty?" Sherlock asked. Lily rolled her eyes.

"What isn't?" Archie and Callum laughed. "The man seriously knows everything!" Sherlock smirked.

"My kind of son-in-law." Molly looked at him like he was crazy. "It's obvious he's going to propose." She rolled her eyes. Calvin sat down then.

"Detective Inspector." Calvin said, shaking hands with Sherlock. "Doctor." He shook hands with Molly too. So, polite then.

"Good to see you again." Molly said. He smiled warmly. Happy, not uncomfortable.

"Good to see you as well, Doctor Holmes. How was your honeymoon?"

"It was amazing." Molly said. "I've been to France, but the countryside is so beautiful."

"Where were you prior to your honeymoon?"

"Paris, mostly, and the neighboring city. My uncle lived out there, until he died." Sherlock had known that. One of their many...many...many...many...(you get the idea) post-coital talks had consited of family relations, and their locations around the world. France seemed to be a popular one, as did Canada. Sherlock also had discovered Molly had family in a lot of the same countries as Sherlock. Like Germany, France (of course), Romania, Switzerland, Russia, and Bulgaria. America and Canada were the only two differences between them. Sherlock had a lot of first cousins, as his parents had a lot of siblings, but most of Molly's family were more distant, like second and third cousins.

Doctor Carlisle Mortus, who worked in the morgue at Barts (ironic sort of last name for a mortician, don't you think?) took the empty seat. He shook hands with Sherlock Molly. Sherlock didn't really work with him. He had been hired around the same time Sherlock had started working with Molly. She had showed him the ropes of Barts, but otherwise was good. He had, according to Molly, been transferred from another hospital. He was a Professor, and was needed for the student from London University.

"I heard life gets hectic when I'm not around." Molly told him. "How was it really, Carlisle?"

"Horrible. I had students, and Mike had a pile of paperwork taller than the Empire State, and Doctor Henry Adams went on family leave, so all the newbies got stuck on post-mortems, and half the time they kept calling Mike back for help."

"Great, so I have a mess to get back to on Tuesday." Molly said.

"We have it mostly sorted. They didn't mix up any body parts, but they definitely messed up big time." Sherlock rolled his eyes.

"They need you in there." He told Roger, who was coming around with the paper plates, and plastic eating utensils.

"Considered it." Roger said. "When I'd been fired from the Leeds station. I've done it before. I had two jobs back in the day, before I married Anna. We were desperate, and needed the money for a house, and a family." Roger laid down his napkins. "It was part of the reason we waited so long to have kids." Sherlock nodded. "Part of it was issues concieving."

"I thought that it wasn't an issue."

"I didn't think so either, but according to her doctor, it is." Roger said, soundign rather disheartened. Sherlock and Mycroft exchanged glances, and Sherlock got up, walking back into the kitchen with him.

"What's the problem, Roger?" Sherlock asked. Roger didn't answer. He grabbed Roger's arm, and said, "Why won't you answer me?" Roger turned to face him. They were in the house.

"We've been trying for two years now to have another baby. We thought it would be nice for Sally to have siblings. We can't get anywhere." Roger said, tossing the napkins down on the table. They were quiet, Sherlock more in surprise than anything.

"I thought you were all right. I haven't deduced anything off." Roger laughed bitterly, shook his head.

"You forget, I know you better than you know yourself at times, Sherlock. I've gotten past all your little deduction techniques." Sherlock hadn't been expecting that. He looked at Roger.

"When's your next day off? Maybe I could use the Bart's lab to figure it out?" Roger passed his hand over his face.

"If you think it'll work." Roger said, looking desperate.

"First, we'll need a blood sample from both of you, then I'll need a sperm sample from you as well." Roger blushed.

"Are you serious?"

"Do you want me to help you or not?" He looked uncomfortable, and sighed.

"All right, fine." He said irritably, still embarrassed. "How would I go about getting that?" Sherlock thought for a moment.

"Basically, get a container of sorts, and just collect a sample. It doesn't have to be a ton. I'm going into work for about twenty minutes. I can bring you a vial. Like one I would use for my experiments and such." Roger, who normally didn't care if Sherlock knew about sperm count tests and such, was very embarrassed.

"No, that part I can handle myself. It's the...collection...I don't know about getting." Sherlock sighed.

"Do you really insist that I spell this out for you? You have to colelct it manually. Mixed with the discharge she lets out herself would tamper with the final result." Roger flushed.

"I have to wank? Seriously?" Sherlock grinned. He was getting a lot of joy out of Roger's discomfort.

"Yes, yes you do, dear cousin. How else do you get a sperm sample?" Sherlock nearly laughed when Roger went dark red.

"Coming guys?" John asked, coming towards them. He looked surprised when Roger looked uncomfortable about the amount of information John had heard.

"We're coming." Sherlock said, claping Roger on the shoulder, and heading to the yard, and getting back into the table next to Molly, where he pressed a kiss to her temple, and rumpled Jonah's curly hair. Sherlock, like his family and friends and collegues have started doing, tucks into dinner. He leaned over and helped Jonah pour a glass of lemonade. They ate and talked, Sherlock going quiet to take in the conversation around him.

Afterwords, several people had headed towards the pool, and Molly failing to convince Sherlock to join her, Jonah decided he wanted his dad to join him. Sherlock was talking to his father about the honeymoon.

"Dad." Jonah said, looking up at him, smiling sweetly in the way only an adorable eight year old, snow sporting freckles across his pale face, with his curls hanging into his eyes, can do. (Phew). Sherlock looked down into his green eyes.

"Yes, son." Sherlock looked at his son, deducing a forecoming challenge.

"I bet you can't beat me to the poo in a race."

"I so could, Jonah. My legs are significantly longer, I would easily outrun you." Sherlock crossed the legs in question.

"You can't. Cause you're chicken." He said, tucking his arms underneath his armpits to make wings. "Bwaaaaak bwak bwak bwak bwak bwak bwak bwak bwak bwaaak!" He started acting like a chicken.

"I am not a chicken." Sherlock said indignantly. Mr. Holmes was laughing. Several people nearby were watching. Sherlock was irritated.

"Then race me, you old fart." Sherlock stared at the boy. He never would have spoken to his father this way, as he would have surely been punished. But he never got to enjoy being playful with his father either. So, instead of punishing Jonah, he stood up, and yanked off his suit coat, then his dress shirt. He unbuckled his belt, and yanked down his trousers, being careful not to accidentlly pull down his bathing suit. His socks and shoes came off with his trousers, which were neatly folded, and placed on the bench. Sherlock then pulled the plain white t-shirt he used as an undershirt over his head, revealing that he wasn't just toned, he had muscles. He wasn't bulging by any means, but he had a light six pack, and muscles rolling across his whole body. Sherlock laid his glasses, unfolded and upside-down on the table. Jonah pulled the t-shirt he had on over his head, and they stood at the ready.

"Loser does what?"

"Loser has to kiss someone in front of everyone." Sherlock looked at Jonah in complete shock. "Of the winner's choice." Oh, this would be good.

"What decides the win?"

"How far away they jump." So they landed in the pool. People who had started gathering, even from out of the pool, had watched int interest. Someone wolf-whistled. Sherlock ignored it. His skin was still tanned. Despite his pale skin, he had tanned beautifully when they had visited the beach.

"On your mark." Greg said. The got ready to run. "Get set." They were posied. "Go!" They ran as fast as they could, taking off at full speed, and launched themselves into the pool. Sherlock dove right in, headfirst. Jonah did more of a cannon ball, curling up inside himself, and making a huge splash for a skinny, short little eight year old. Sherlock dove into the water in such a way that the water didn't make that much of a splash. Sherlock swam-yes, swam- to the service. He had made it to the nine foot deep line. Sherlock turned and found Jonah struggling at the four-foot line. He swam over and caught him. Jonah looked a little sad, like he really wanted to win. Feeling bad for the small boy (Sherlock knew the boy got a lot of crap from people at school for his small frame from the bullies in the older grades, and he knew he didn't have a lot of friends either) so he said to Jonah, "We'll go again. Who do you want to kiss?" Jonah sort of shrugged.

"You don't have to do it again."

"Who said anythign about having to, Jonah. I said I wanted to." Jonah grinned widely. "Now, I've seen the way you look at her. Go over there and kiss Sally." Sherlock caught Jonah's blush. "Oh, come on, you kissed her under the mistletoe."

"Yes, because nobody else did, and I felt bad."

"And if you don't know, she'll feel bad, because you didn't do it now. So go." Sherlock put him out of the pool, and clambered out himself. Sherlock flicked his wet curls out of his eyes, and approached Roger.

"Don't look now, but I believe our kids have fallen in love." Sherlock said, grinning as Jonah kissed Sally on the cheek, turning bright red.

"Isn't that illegal?"

"They're eight, Roger." Sherlock said. "They aren't getting married. They may even get over it eventually. And at eighteen they won't legally be cousins anymore." Sherlock said. They set up again, but Sherlock pulled Molly off to the side.

"Get everyone to start cheering for Jonah." Sherlock said. "Just do it." She went and had John help her start spreading the word around. Sherlock flicked his hair from his eyes again, and waited for Jonah to join him at the start. Sherlock crouched down next to him.

"Listen to me, son." Jonah looked at him from behind his sopping curly bangs. "Just run. Don't look back, just run." Jonah nodded, and crouched down. He looked a bit disheartened. Sherlock glanced at Molly.

"Come on Jonah!" She shouted. Jonah looked up at her, and looked surprised.

"Come on Jonah!" John called out.

"Kick his butt!" Archie shouted. Sherlock laughed. The pool had been cleared, as everyone had turned to watch father and son battle it out for fun. They paused.

"Ready...Set...Go!" Lestrade shouted. Sherlock waited until Jonah was nearly there, and half-heartedly ran, and didn't really jump in. He just climbed in on the ladder, and stood where it was waist high. Jonah, who had ran as fast as he could, and had help from Callum, had been launched towards the deep end, the nine-foot end. While people cheered, Sherlock began to worry. Jonah should have resurfaced by then. Sherlock looked around, worried. It started going quiet.

Without thinking, Sherlock snatched the nearest goggles, and crammed them on, before diving into the water. The chlorine had begun stinging his eyes once the soot damage had taken effect. Sherlock swam towards the struggling figure, fatiguing quickly because the fear had made him struggle. Sherlock put all of his power into kicking towards Jonah, and he wrapped his arms around the boy, who barely had the strength to wrap his arms around his dad. Sherlock swam, with one arm, to the surface, and he put the boy, who had suddenly stopped breathing. He clambered out of the pool, and called for John. John tipped Jonah's head back, and Sherlock knelt down and started doing CPR. Molly knelt down next to them, and they hung on. Jonah started coughing, and spitting water up. Sherlock helped him sit up. Afterwords Jonah clung to Sherlock, and John had everyone back up. Sherlock held Jonah close to him.

"Did I win?" Sherlock grinned at the boy.

"You sure did, Jonah." He said. Jonah smiled weakly.

"You better go kiss Molly." Sherlock looked at the boy. He was confused for a second.

"But you won. You don't have to be nice because it's me, son."

"No, but I want to be. Dad, you saved my life, so I want to be nice back." Jonah smiled warmly. "Besides, I like it when you kiss Molly. It makes you guys smile." Sherlock smiled, and they both laughed. He pressed a kiss to Jonah's forehead, and carried him over to a chair to sit in while he rested. John decided to sit down and check Jonah over. Sherlock went over to talk to Molly.

"So, Jonah's decided who I have to kiss." He said. Molly smiled sweetly up at him.

"Oh? And who's that?"

"You." He whispered, before leaning in and crushing him mouth to hers. They stood there snogging, while several people cheered. Roger snuck up behind them, and pushed the happy couple into the pool, where they landed. Sherlock and Molly got to the surface, and looked at each other, then a very smug Roger. Sherlock clambered out of the pool, and ran after Roger.

"Get back here you bastard!" Sherlock shouted, running at him at full speed. Molly and Anna were laughing as Sherlock chased Roger. Roger ran as fast as he could, and was stopped by Mycroft getting in the way.

"No fair! This is double teaming!" Sherlock grinned evilly, and grabbed Roger, and pushing him into the pool. As Roger spluttered in shock, everyone stared at the brothers roaring with laughter next to one another.

"Oh, I almost forgot." Sherlock said, turning and glancing at Archie. He was grinning evilly, and he ran up to them. Before he could even began to protest, Archie had shoved Mycroft into the pool. Now, Archie and Sherlock were laughing. John too, had started laughing. The look of shock on Mycroft's face caused the entire party to start laughing.

Later that night, Sherlock and Molly were tucking Jonah into bed. He was already fast asleep. Sherlock and Molly kissed him lightly, before walking off to bed. They went and sat down on their bed. Sherlock had begun unbuttoning his shirt. Molly grabbed his hands, stradled his lap, and began undoing the buttons herself. She also attatched herself to his neck. Sherlock, giving a smirk of amusement, mixed with horniness, and mischief, wrapped his arms around Molly's waist, and pulled her down, flipping them over.

The next morning, they couldn't, for the life of them, figure out why Jonah was cranky and tired.

**Haha, so, I like the ending**

**Anyway, this one is shortly going to be coming to a close, but when, I'm not sure. It'll tell you on that chapter. I have the prequel started, and I will be working on getting the sequel written as well. I'll update you on that.**

**Now that NaNo is done, I can finally come back to you amazing, wonderful people. I miss you. Very much.**


	40. 40 The Gift

**You know that "this is the end" speech I told you about.**

**Here it goes.**

**This is the end. But don't worry! I've got it under control! I've got the prequel and the sequel coming, and I'll be working on fictionpress (hopefully), so you can all come stalk...er...I mean find...me. **

**Also, I might be working more with my other fandoms. Well, except Doctor Who. While watching it interests me greatly, writing it is a whole new ballgame. Because I can understand the space time continuum when the Tenth Doctor explains it, but to actually write it would leave in a slaughtering of something already beautifully crafted. **

**No, I think I'll leave that one alone. **

**Like I said, the squeal "A Life Worth Living" will be heading your way. I'm not sure if the Prequel "This Life of Mine" will be written first, or the sequel. Probably the sequel, it explains a lot more. I've got some serious planning to do for both of those, plus other fan fictions I'd like to write. Better open up a new "Writer's Cafe" project. Haha, jk.**

**Thank you so much for all your love and support. I can't believe it's already done. **

**Enjoy, my friends.**

**Look for the note at the bottom.**

The next day, Molly had come home, very stressed, very moody, and easily irritated. Sherlock decided to investigate. He followed Molly to their bedroom. She was stretched across their bed, looking at a book. Sherlock could tell she wasn't really reading it.

"Molly, love, what is it?" Sherlock asked. Jonah came in.

"Dad, Mrs. Hudson wants to know if she can let John in."

"Tell her yes, and that we'll be out momentarily." He nodded and left. Sherlock sat on the bed, and lightly touched her back, and started to soothingly rub it. "Molly?"

"Sherlock, I'm not in a good mood right now, so go see John, and I'll be out soon." Sherlock nodded, and leaned over to kiss her cheek.

"All right. Send me a text if you need anything." They had discovered last night that their bedroom was nearly soundproof. Jonah had passed out on the couch, and Sherlock left him, knowing Jonah would be woken up, which would only cause to make the boy cranky in the morning. Molly and Sherlock, still in the honeymoon phase, had "done the married thing" as Roger had put it when Sherlock showed up at work that morning, and Jonah hadn't a clue. They still hadn't kept it down either.

So, Molly shouting would defeat the purpose.

She smiled tightly at him, and he left, after laying a blanket over her body to warm her. Sherlock put the kettle on, and went into the living room. John was looking around in awe.

"Wow, Molly's been cleaning." Sherlock nodded.

"She hasn't touched the kitchen, however." John laughed.

"I can only imagine." He said, easing himself into his chair. Sherlock sat in his. Jonah was on the floor, playing with his cars.

"Son, is your summer homework done?" Jonah nodded.

"Mrs. Hudson helped me with it. Daddy, can I-" Sherlock's mobile went off. He picked it up, and answered it before it rang three times with "DI Holmes."

"Sherlock, it's me." Mycroft.

"Yes?" He asked irritatedly.

"John is there, no?" Sherlock was quiet. "Good, he's arrived right on time. He'll spend some time with Jonah. I have something for you to do. Go outside and get into the car." The line went dead.

"Jonah, I'm going out. John's in charge. If I'm not back by eight, he goes to bed, he'll dress himself. Just make sure he's comfortable." John nodded. "Ask John what you wanted to ask me, son." He hugged Jonah briefly. "Behave, son." Jonah rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, cause that's such an issue." He said. Sherlock smirked, and left, saying, "With me as a father, you never know." All the way down the stairs, Sherlock heard John laughing.

Sherlock, pulling on his coat and scarf, shut the door behind him, and entered the black car, clambering into the back seat, and looking surprised at his guest. "Molly?"

"Oh, hi Sherlock."

"Didn't I see you off to work just a little while ago?" Molly giggled.

"Yeah, I'm lost too, it's okay." She touched his hand. Sherlock really needed to figure out what was going on. And quickly. "Mycroft?"

"Who else, Molly?" Sherlock looked at the driver. "Alfonse?"

"Sherlock, I never did offer my congratulations." He said, grinning.

"Oh...well, thank you." Sherlock said, sounding uncertain. Molly looked utterly confused. After an hour long drive, they pulled into a driveway of a huge house. Well, to Sherlock it was a house. To Molly, who lived modestly, it was a mansion.

"What in the world?" Molly asked. Sherlock looked around, and clambered from the car. Mycroft stood outside, next to Roger. Each Holmes wore a smirk, although Roger was clearly attempting to hide his excitement.

"You bought us a house?" Sherlock asked.

"Of course. I couldn't let my nephew grow up in 221B could I?" Sherlock looked up, and noted the size. "Seventeen bedrooms, although many of them have been modified into studies." Sherlock nodded as Roger handed over the keys.

"Go on, mate." Roger said. Sherlock looked around for a shell-shocked Molly, and reached his hand out to her. "We'd have done this sooner, but we had difficulty finishing in time, with our schedules being so insane." Sherlock didn't reply. Instead, he unlocked the door, and entered the house. The first thing they saw was the foyer, with a marble floor, and dome ceiling. There was a massive closet to hang their coats in, which they both did. Sherlock, who had been informed that Mrs. Hudson had gone to see her sister, was surprised to find the elderly landlady grinning from the staircase at the end of the foyer. Sherlock dropped the keys on the end table, in a bowl made for keys. A pot of blue forget-me-not's sat on the table. They smelled wonderful, Molly thought. Looking up, there was a chandelier, glass, and beautiful. They smiled, and followed Mrs. Hudson to the massive dining room, with a table enough for eight people, not including the two ends of the table, where Molly and Sherlock would be sitting. The tables had an old-fashioned appearance to them, with high backs, arms intricately carved, and the velvety cushioning a bit worn, but still beautiful. They continued on.

While the dining room was old-fashioned, the kitchen was modern, and new. Every appliance was stainless steel, and shiny. The fridge stood tall, and proud, it's double doors, opening smoothly. The freezer section of the fridge was a drawer at the bottom, where a large, white box sat, filling itself with ice periodically. Sherlock closed the drawer, and looked at the counters. The cupboards under the counters, and above, were a dark wooden color, while the tops were black marble. The sink was also stainless steel, and had a filter over the top of the faucet. Molly backed up to look at the set up, and bumped into something. She turned around to find the island, matching the counters, but complete with stools to sit at. Sherlock looked up, and found the lighting to be supplied by several florescent lights. Mrs. Hudson lead them back through the dining room, and into the living room, where there was a flat-screen television, a fireplace, freshly cleaned, and deep red carpeting. The back-leather sectional rested around the room, with matching ottomans placed in stylistic points. There were three armchairs by the fireplace, although the end of the sectional cut off nearby.

Next, Molly and Sherlock were lead back into the foyer, and up the stairs, where they found the bedrooms. There were two half-bathrooms downstairs, Sherlock had noted, but it didn't seem like there were any up here. They were lead to the first door. There was a sign with footballs, insects, and a picture of father and son. On the sign was written "Jonah's Room." Sherlock and Molly smiled at one another, and opened the door.

Inside, there was a double bed, the frame a mahogany color. The walls were a shade of blue, dark, but not navy (if that makes sense, Molly thought). The wardrobe matched the bed frame, as did the bedside table. There was a light on the table, and a ceiling fan in the center of the ceiling. A large window showed the front, where Alfonse stood, smoking a cigar while Mycroft kept him company. Roger must have come inside, then. He found the car still in the same position. He turned to the left, and opened the door, where a bathroom where a sink,a toilet, and a shower. It was simple, yet elegant. Sherlock and Molly went back into the hallway, where the found another door labeled "Jonah's Study." They went inside. The wooden floors were covered with a large rug. In the center of the room was a desk, complete with a lamp, Jonah's laptop, and office supplies. Sherlock noted the bookshelves around the room were filled with Jonah's books, and many more new ones.

"Birthday presents from Roger." Mrs. Hudson said softly. Sherlock turned to the landlady.

"Did Jonah know?"

"Of course he did. That's why he's all moved in already." Sherlock smirked, and went back into the hall. They found several more bedrooms, all modernly decorated. They were guest bedrooms, Sherlock assumed, until he found two bedrooms right across from one another. Each one had a personalized door sign, one reading "Callum's Room" the other "Lily's Room." Both teens came out then, grinning.

"Callum...Lily?" They each hugged Sherlock, then Molly, as if it were normal to greet your father and his new wife as if you knew them for years, rather than months. "You guys live here?"

"Not permanently." Callum said. "But this is where we'll stay when we do." Sherlock grinned. Callum let his father into his room, where it was clear someone lived there.

A flat-screen held a paused video game, in the center of a battle. The bed, although made, was still a bit rumpled. The room was larger, and had space for a small couch, a mini fridge, a microwave on top, and a small cupboard for snacks. There was a bathroom too, although it looked much like Jonah's.

"We're farther from Jonah, so that he has his privacy, and we have ours." Callum said. Lily was smiling.

"Come see my room." Lily said. Inside, it looked similar to Callum's, except it was lacking in the paused video game. "We each have our own study spaces too, but I'll show you those in a minute." Calvin walked from the bathroom, and looked surprised.

"Detective Inspector Holmes, Doctor Holmes, hello." He looked embarrassed. Sherlock looked around.

Lily's bed was bigger than Callum's. In fact, it was a Queen-sized bed, with covers that weren't the style of most eighteen year old girls. They were more adult styles. There was a bedside table and lamp on either side of the bed, along with the small couch, and a smaller TV.

"What's going on here?" Sherlock asked.

"You didn't figure it out?" Lily asked, grinning. "Daddy, Calvin and I are getting married." Sherlock looked at her in surprise.

"You are?" He smiled. "Congratulations, Lily." They hugged for a long moment, before Lily got her congrats from Molly as well. "That's why it looks more adult-like then, I take it." She nodded. They looked at the bathroom too, where it was much like a master bathroom, with a jacuzzi tub, a stand-in shower, and a double sink.

"Come check out my office. Callum's looks the same." Mrs. Hudson was grinning at Sherlock's excitement, following his daughter around. The office looked like an adult office, full of books, a giant desk, and an Apple computer. Sherlock looked around.

"We haven't decorated yet, Callum and I." She said. "We were going to do that once you'd seen around first." Sherlock wrapped an arm around Lily's shoulders. He looked through the office window, and found the backyard. Mycroft, Roger, and Alfonse had finally joined them. Sherlock found a huge yard. While John and Mary had an acre and a half, Sherlock wasn't sure how big their yard was. To his surprise, he found a large whole in the ground.

"For Jonah's benefit, more than yours, we're installing a pool." Mycroft said. Sherlock looked over at Mycroft. "They'll have it put in by the end of the week." He nodded. "There's three acres out there, just so you know."

"Why for us?" Molly asked him. Mycroft thought for a moment.

"Because that's what family does. This place was bought my father's father, yet he never got a house built here. I finally was able to get my hands on the building plans, and made adjustments." Mycroft said. "To accommodate everyone. Several of the bedrooms you found aren't finished in their furnishings. They'll accommodate John's family, Roger's family, and of course Mummy and Father."

"Not you?" Molly asked. Mycroft shook his head.

"I live only twenty minutes away, Molly. I don't need rooms here." Sherlock looked surprised.

"Where will Jonah go to school?"

"The same secondary school you attended, and the primary school Archie attended." Sherlock nodded. "We've already had him enrolled. He will be getting the best education in England." Knowing Mycroft's abilities, Molly didn't deny that. "I have his adoption papers for you to sign, Molly." She nodded. "As soon as we're done here." Sherlock turned to Mycroft.

"Were is mine and Molly's bedroom?" Lily and Callum grinned. Calvin, still unsure, hid behind Alfonse and Mrs. Hudson.

"Can I show him?" Callum asked. Mycroft nodded. Molly and Sherlock followed Callum into the hallway, and too the end of it, where they found a doorway, leading up a small flight of stairs. There, what they found was a surprise.

There was a sitting area with a fireplace, two armchairs, an end table, and an ottoman. On the left wall, there was a small bar, with different types of drinks. On the right, there was a french door hidden behind their curtains. Across the room was a king-sized bed, four-poster, and covered in the most beautiful blankets Molly had ever seen. There was a wardrobe for Molly, and one for Sherlock, next to one another. When opened, it was empty, save the tall mirror on the door. They crossed the room, into the bathroom, where a jacuzzi tub sat, a stand-in shower, a double sink, a toilet, and a urinal.

Sherlock and Molly went to the french doors, where they found a patio. There was a set of stairs from the patio, down to the back yard. On the wooden patio, there was a table, two chairs, and an umbrella, all green. A small barbeque was placed on the patio. That was odd. Maybe it was so they could have their romantic dates Molly loved so much, and still not have to go anywhere.

"This isn't the best part." Callum said. "I'll let Uncle Mycroft show you that." They looked confused, and followed him back into the main room. "I'll mention as a side note that this room is completely soundproof." Sherlock and Molly smirked at one another while Callum lead them ahead. Mycroft took over once they reached the foyer. He pointed to a door.

"That is the security system. There are camera's all over the outside, the foyer, and the drive way. This way, nobody can break in and kidnap Jonah, or you. We don't need another Moriarty." Sherlock smirked, and followed his brother to the basement. They went through a long hallways, dark, and damp. They finally reached a room, where Mycroft unlocked the door, and let them inside. Inside, Sherlock walked three feet, and froze, in complete awe.

There was a huge table, filled with top-of-the-line microscopes, test tubes, chemicals, a fridge, and notebooks. There were filing cabinets, an Apple computer, and computers similar to those at the morgue, specific for tests.

"A laboratory?" Sherlock asked in awe. Mycroft nodded.

"We figured Molly wouldn't mind if you had your own lab. There are fire extinguishers everywhere, keeping your accidents to a minimum. In any chance that you are to blow the lab up in an accident, the house will still stand." Molly and Sherlock liked that. It made them feel better about the lab being there. Although Sherlock was careful, they new there was every possibility. They followed Mycroft back through, into the foyer.

"We have one more thing for you." Sherlock looked up. Greg Lestrade was in the foyer, grinning. "This one was Greg's idea." Megan was standing there too, grinning. "Instead of working _at_ Scotland Yard, we're remodeling 221B. That will be your address. You will work there as a detective. In 221A, Mrs. Hudson's old flat, will be the reception area. And in 221C, Molly, we're putting a small morgue." They looked at Mycroft in shock.

"You'll legally be allowed to perform the autopsies right there form the agency. You'll be associate with us, and still be a DI." Lestrade said. Sherlock's eyes were wide. "Any questions?"

"When do I start?" Lestrade grinned.

"The sooner you move out, the better." Mycroft said.

Within three days, they were moved in.

The End

**Hi, it's me, the note at the bottom! I'm here to tell you to look out for some serious updating!**

**Haha, sorry, I was trying to be creative. All right, I have an old account I'm trying to switch out with, delete that one (however that's done) and repost all my fan fictions right here to this account. So, look out for that. Especially in Harry Potter, and Gallagher Girls. My two main pieces. **

**Thanks guys! I hope you liked it!**


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